Wandering Child
by meghankatherine
Summary: Based on the ALW movie, some Leroux. Starts just before Christine goes to live at the Opera House. Erik&Christine face what trials are thrown at them, & Raoul friendly. Nothing dirty. Unfinished.
1. 1860

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything, no infringement intended.**

**Summary: The events that led to the movie, starting just before Christine goes to live there. Most likely will end up differently than the movie though, and Erik&Christine. **

**Author's Note: First TPotO FanFiction, I hope you like it! I just bought the book, but haven't started reading it yet, so for now it is based on the 2004 movie. Forgive me if details on Christine's past don't line up. Read and Review please! There is some french in there for mere artistic effect, which I will translate at the end.**

Chapter One: 1860

"Father, what was Mother like?" The man's eyes danced with the memories that his young daughter's question stirred.

"Well," he began, carefully planning out every word as he always did, and bringing the little girl to his lap, "she was beautiful. She was always full of life and love and compassion."

"And she was a ballerina, was she not, Father?" The child smoothed her father's slick black hair and he smiled.

"Yes, Christine, and she had the voice of an angel. She loved to sing while I played the violin. She said there was no better sound than when the two of us made music. You look like her too, you know." Christine's face grew bright.

"Do I?" Her father's green eyes sparkled as they always did when he smiled, just as a young voice was heard echoing from outside.

"Little Lotte, where are you?" Christine's face broke into a grin.

"Raoul!" and she disappeared through the doorway of the attic. Minutes later, she reappeared hand in hand with a boy of 8 years, one year older than she. As they sat down on the floor, the young boy spoke.

"Monsieur Daae, will you play us a song?" The man smiled and picked up his violin, and without a word, notes began flowing around the room, echoing from the walls and filling the children. Soon, Christine's eyes filled with that wondering look that she often got, as she looked off into the distance.

"Little Lotte, let her mind wander." Christine smiled and pushed a dark curl behind her ear.

"I wonder, am I fonder of dolls or of goblins or of shoes or of riddles or frocks or of chocolates?" Raoul handed her a chocolate, before rising up and drawing his imaginary sword.

"I, mademoiselle, and fondest of sword fights and rescuing beautiful princesses such as yourself. Yes, one day, Little Lotte, you will be in great danger, and I will fight for you. I will slay all evil, and put you on the back of my horse. We will then ride off to the country side and be married. I shall never leave your side." The two naive young children grinned and giggled. Christine's father also smiled, knowing not that he had very little time to live, due to a tumor in his brain. In two weeks, he would be dead.

* * *

"Raoul, I may not see you today. Father is quite ill. He shall be better soon though." Raoul smiled a sad smile, attempting to raise the hopes of the girl who's face fell under shadows.

"Every hope and every prayer with you both."

* * *

A few days later, Christine's father would not wake up from a rest. Her life would never be the same.

* * *

'_I must run. I must run and run and run. Someplace far away, I will be there someday. Someplace and someday far from here and now, Father will be alive, I know he will. He would never leave me alone. I must run.'_

So Christine ran. She ran as far as she could, and stopped only when he little legs would carry her no further. She was in the heart of the city. She wandered around for hours, mesmerized, until she came to The Opera Populaire. She had seen it once before, only the outside, on a trip her father had taken her into town. She knew that her father adored the operas there. _'Father...' _

"_Father, why are you ill?" He sighed._

"_When I'm in heaven, child," the girl's eyes grew wide and fearful, "I will send the angel of music to you."_

"_Father, don't speak of such things! You will return to good health, I just know you will! You must..." she buried her face in his shoulder and began to cry, feeling the rise and fall of his chest. She knew her father's hair had streaks of gray, and lines had formed on his face, but his green eyes still sparkled with the brilliance as they always had. He drew in a sharp breath, exhaled, and closed his eyes from exhaustion, although all he had been doing was conversing with his child. She brought her head up, and he felt her breath on his cheek as she whispered. _

"_I'm frightened, Father," he opened his eyes and cupped his daughter's tear stained cheek. _

"_Don't be, _mon enfant,_ you are never alone. I just need to rest now." Christine rose from his bedside to let his sleep. She turned from him, but was drawn back to face him when the words that would be his last echoed in her ears. _"Je t'aime, mon chéri," _Christine smiled sadly through her tears._

"Je t'aime aussi bien, mon père."

Hot tears now streamed down her face again as she wandered into the opera house. Her tears ceased; she was captivated by the beautiful artwork and music that it possessed. Through her aimless wandering, she found herself in a dark hallway, where she heard faint beauty echoing from before her. She followed the voice, the voice of a man she realized as she drew closer, to a stone room with many candles. It was in this room where the voice seemed to be coming from, the beauty of the music resounding from the walls in her ears and filling her, but there was not a figure to be seen.

"_Shamed into solitude,_

_Shunned by the multitude,_

_I learned to listen,_

_In my dark, my heart hears music." _

Christine dropped to her knees, completely entranced by the music that surrounded her. She was filled with no longer thoughts of her own, but merely mesmerized by the music resonating around her; entranced and moved by the beauty and despair of the voice.

"_I long to teach the world,_

_Rise up and reach the world,_

_No one will listen,_

_I alone can hear music."_

"Beautiful voice, I hear your music." Christine heard a soft gasp - her presence being realized. Then the mysterious voice saw a look on the child's face that he recognized, not the face itself, but the look in her eyes, the look of despair, of having no one in the world.

"Is anything the matter, child?"

"I-well, yes." Feeling like she could trust this mysterious presence for reason she could not understand, she let her thoughts pour from her mouth in the way that one lets thoughts pour about their brain, with no thought to what anyone may think. "My father has died, I am alone. You are alone too, aren't you? Are you a ghost?" Christine felt no fear, although she had just posed a frightening question. She was not afraid of this voice in the shadows; his voice calmed her. The voice chuckled softly; for the first time that he could remember, he was laughing.

"Many people think I am. The Opera Ghost, The Phantom of the Opera, they call me. It does seem awfully daunting though, does it not? I am not a ghost though. Think of me more as...as an angel." Christine's eyes widened.

"An angel of music?" He felt his lips turn upward into a faint smile, another gesture he was unused to.

"Yes, my dear,"

"Sing again for me, _Ange de Musique_," Christine lay on her back and closed her eyes, and let the sound fill her once more.

"_Then at last, a voice in the gloom,_

_Seemed to cry, _'I hear your fears,

Your torment and your tears,'

_She saw my loneliness,_

_Shared in my emptiness,_

_No one would listen,_

_No one but her,_

_Heard as the outcast hears."_

"Oh angel..." Christine whispered, but was interrupted by the voice of an older woman.

"Who is that in there?" Christine sat up, suddenly filled with fright. Her angel was gone, and in the doorway stood a woman of some age, but still beauty, and a blonde girl of Christine's age it seemed, with the same beauty. Without a word, Christine pushed past the two and once more began to run. She ran around the opera house, although she was lost, she was sure that the two ladies would be too. She ran until she was sure she had lost them, and the moment she stopped to rest, she felt a calm, delicate, and warm hand on her shoulder. She would have ran, but she somehow felt the parental love from behind her. She calmly turned around to see the woman who had stood in the doorway.

"Oh, please don't be angry with me for sneaking into the Opera house! I beseech you, let me go, I will leave right away!" Christine silenced when she felt the woman's other hand rest on Christine's free shoulder in a loving way, showing that she was indeed not angry, but Christine still felt uncomfortable.

"Hush, child. Have you any parents?" Christine looked at the floor.

"My Mother and Father, they live in heaven,..um..?"

"You may call me Madam Giry. Orphan, if you have no where to live, you may live here, if you are prepared to study ballet, as we need as many girls of your age as we can. Surely you must have a name though, child?" Madam pushed a stray curl behind the girl's ear, a gentle and loving gesture countering the woman's strict tone.

"Christine Daae, and I would be eternally indebted to you Madam Giry. I thank you wholeheartedly." Christine curtsied.

"My daughter, Meg, will show you to a room, Chri-" Madam Giry silenced when a note sealed with a red skull figure unexpectedly fluttered from above, though Madam did not look surprised. She hastily read it, and changed her mind about Christine's living arrangements.

"I have instructions as to which room you are to stay in, my dear. Follow me."

**A/N: First chapter, what fun! Also, the song that the Phantom sings was a deleted song, it is available for listening on the bonus disk on the 2004 DVD. **

**Anywho, here is the mini French/English dictionary, as promised:**

**Mon enfant - my child**

**Je t'aime, mon chéri - I love you, my darling**

**Je t'aime, aussi bien, mon père - I love you, as well, my father**

**Ange de Musique - Angel of Music**

**I hope you like it! I have a couple chapters written and not typed, and many more ideas in my head! I will write as I see fit, but I will type and upload (the work part P) depending on reviews. Thank you for reading, my sweets!**


	2. In Sleep He Sang To Me

**A/N: Wow, the first chapter gota grand total of...zero reviews. I really like writing this story, but if I don't get any reviews, I'll probable just leave it in a notebook. shrug / Well, thischapter jumps a few years in the middle, without thorough explanation -it didn't seem to flow. Fair warning here, if it doesn't make sense, let me know I shall change it. Also, I usually write short chapters, so they will most likely start to decrease in size. shrug Anyways, enjoy!**

Chapter Two: In Sleep He Sang To Me

"Christine Daae, _mon beau_," Christine sat up in bed, startled, from the abrupt interruption of her wandering thoughts. A soft chuckle. "Have I frightened you, child?"

"Oh," Christine smiled and sighed with relief, "It's you, my angel. I would never be frightened of you." She rested her head back on her pillow. "You sent that note to Madam Giry earlier today, did you not?"

"Indeed."

"How come?" The Phantom smiled.

"Two reasons, my sweet. It is a far lovelier room than another she might have put you in, being a young and untrained ballerina, yourself. Also, I have a far easier access to this room than others." This delighted, yet confused Christine. She wondered why, as an angel, he would not be able to go anywhere he pleased.

"Master, do you have a figure then? Are you a person or a spirit? I'm afraid I don't quite understand you."

"Well, my dear, you understand me better than anyone else, so be content. You have asked enough questions for one night. We have only met today, remember." Christine's eyes slightly widened at this realization.

"It seems like centuries. As if you know everything about me already." They sat in silence for a few minutes before Christine spoke again, still sure that her angel was present. "Will you sing me to sleep, _Ange de Musique_?"

"Of course. I believe you start ballet training tomorrow, do you not? I prefer you be well rested." He could not rid himself of the smile that had taken his face, as it not had in so many years.

"I do. Thank you, Anguhhh" she interrupted herself with a yawn, followed by a giggle of her distorted words. "Angel, Master, Friend." He simply smiled silently and began to sing.

"_Angel of Music, I will guard you,_

_I'll stay by your side, guide you,_

_Child, I'll be as your protector,_

_Stay with your strange angel."_

Christine's eyes had fallen shut, and she stirred not, but he continued, waiting for sleep to overtake her completely.

"_I am your Angel, Trust in your Angel of Music,_

_I am your Angel of Music, Trust in your Angel of Music."_

He sang until his precious and innocent new friend's breaths grew long and even, and her face was peaceful, and he turned from her blind love and childlike beauty to return to his dark hell. He was content though. He had finally found a friend. She trusted in him, with a naiveness only a child could possess, and he loved her. A vow he made right then to himself: he would never let the child see his face. His mask even._ 'My mask would frighten her, or at least pique her curiosity. If she ever removed it, well she would hate me forever. Once again, I would have no one. A feeling which becomes unbearable.'_ He knew that someday, the girl's blind love would become more difficult through age, and she would not trust as easily of her angel which she could not see. He decided to not worry about these things for the time being though. He promised himself, that he would never let her endure any pain or sadness. He had been through all of the loneliness and despair in the world, and he wanted not his innocent child friend to go through any of it. _'I shall protect her, always.'

* * *

_

_Christine heard her heart pounding in her ears, her blood racing through her veins, coursing fright through every bone as she ran up and down a long, damp, and dark hallway. The floor was wet and muddy, with rats and God knows what insects scurrying about, and the stone walls radiated a wet heat that made it hard to breathe, especially when Christine was panting anyway. She was running with all her might from something - or to something. She had no idea. She couldn't stop herself. By this time, she didn't know which direction she had come from, or which she should be going in, and the confusion and fear was building inside her, ready to burst as she burning tears streamed down her face. The rotten smelling stone hallway was growing increasingly darker, and Christine screamed as a rat ran across her foot. She stopped and stood motionless as a state of panic began to rush through her bones, and she was about to burst into hysterics. She began to cry out for someone, but she didn't know who. She wanted someone to love her and hold her and tell her that everything was going to be alright, but there was no one to be seen. Suddenly, a sense of calm rushed through her when she felt a pair of strong and loving arms wrap around her from behind, and she felt his breath on her ear as he whispered the words that she needed._

"Your angel is with you, my dear, you are not alone." As he spoke those words through the sleeping child's mirror to her, the thrashing in her bed ceased. What had drawn him back to her though, was her crying out, which had ceased with her tossing and kicking, but a painful look was upon her face that the Phantom couldn't bear to look at, and her breathing was heavy, fast, and uneven. He began to sing to her.

"_Angel of Music, your protector,_

_Here by your side, always,"_

_Christine could still feel her Angel's breath on her face as he sang to her softly, comforting her with his resonant voice, more beautiful than any she had heard before. She turned to embrace him, burying her face in his chest, unable to see his face, but he continued singing._

"_Christine, I will not forsake you,_

_Stay with your strange angel."_

As he sang the last few words, the girl's fear diminished, and it was visible on her face, so he turned away from her and left, just as he had every night since she had arrived He liked the feeling of being able to sing the girl's fears and nightmares into non-existence, and being able to be her comfort and freedom, as no one had ever loved him or trusted in him before. The fact that he loved this child and she loved him, that he could ease her fears with merely the sound of his voice, slowed, but not ceased, the madness that was slowly overtaking him. He was the most brilliant man, possibly, of his time, but the lack of human companionship, contact, and love, paired with the underground darkness that he lived in, could leave no man sane.

_The dank hallway had disappeared around Christine and her faceless angel. When she brought her head up, they were in the most beautiful and peaceful place that she could imagine. Green meadows surrounded them, a clear stream and calm animals added to the charm of the scene. _

"_Mon amour," Her angel still embraced her._

"_Christine. Christine!" Her angel was gone._

"_Meg?"_

"Yes, Christine, it's me. It's time to wake up now, get dressed for practice!" Christine groaned and pushed her covers back. A she made her bed, he mind went back to the dream that she had. It was different that all the others, but one common theme arose in every dream that she had since she had come to live at The Opera Populaire, almost 3 years ago: she was in distress, and her angel held her and sang away her problems. She was sang to sleep every night by him, and in her dreams, he was there. They would talk for hours during the day, when she wasn't immersed in her strict ballet schedule. At merely 9 years old, the youngest dancer besides Meg, whom was a year younger than her, she had become a talented dancer, for only 3 years of training. Meg exceeded her in skill, but the two of them were at the level of their elder dancers. She had grown fairly close to Meg, and even closer to the Phantom. She told Meg much; she told her Angel almost everything. She wanted to be a ballerina and singer, for her mother and father; that she told no one. She cried often for her father; only her angel knew of that, because he saw, and he comforted her. Whenever tears fell from her eyes, her walls echoed with his beautiful voice that so entranced her.

Finally, Christine was dressed and ready for practice. She scanned her room to make sure it was tidy before she left, and walked out of the door. Ballet was strict and demanding, not to mention quite difficult, especially keeping up with those almost 10 years her elders, but Christine adored it. She felt it made her Mother and Father proud. Her mother had died during Christine's infancy, and she was always intrigued by stories and thoughts of her, but she never understood the true pain of death until her best friend and confidant had left her forever._ 'At least he has sent me my Angel of Music,' _she thought and smiled.

In addition to ballet, she desperately wanted to sing. To _faites musique_, for both of her parents. No one knew that secret either. Christine was sure she would keep it as that; a secret, but was not sure if she wanted to._ 'Enough of these thoughts, Christine.' _she scolded herself_, 'Focus on practice now.'_

Practice, though, the first twenty minutes or so anyhow, always consisted of la Carlotta whining about whatever she had chosen to complain about on that particular day. On this particular day, Christine found this extremely boring, and was at a loss of thoughts to entertain herself, and began to look around. She let her 9-year-old eyes drift upward, and she was sure she saw a dark caped figure rush out of sight as soon as she saw it, but after he was gone, seemed so unreal.

"I tol' you! I tol' you, I tol' you, I tol' you!" Carlotta's poor accent and whining tone snapped Christine's attention back down, to where all the other dancers stood in position, and Carlotta faced her, screaming. "I tol' you ballet dancer, too young! Leetle leetle girl, pay no attention! Get in position, toad!" Christine blushed at the diva's outburst at her - she had never addressed her directly, and so she joined the other girls without a word.

* * *

"Oh, Angel, it was so humiliating! She yelled at me, just because I was looking around! But I saw-" The girl fell silent, remembering what she saw, and who she suspected it was. The Phantom knew that she had seen him, but acted as if he didn't. _'Possible she didn't realize it was me,'_ he reasoned. 

"Saw what, Christine?"

"May I ask you something, Angel? Well, two things actually."

"Of course, my dear."

"Are you a man? A person, I mean. Or are you just a voice, a spirit? I still do not understand." He sighed.

"Yes Christine. What you are getting at I mean. It was me that you had seen today. I was watching over you, as always." Christine grinned.

"May I see you then?"

"No," came the sharp reply, barely letting her finish her sentence, in a dark tone that Christine did not recognize from her angel. She looked at the floor.

"I'm- I'm sorry. I just..." her voice trailed off.

"No, my dear. I'm sorry, just...no." She was disappointed by his reply, but happy that she recognized his voice once again. She remained silent. "What was your other question, Christine, darling?"

"Oh!" She had forgotten, in her embarrassment. "I was wondering," she hesitated, slightly frightened by his outburst at her last question of his identity. "Well, do you have a name?"

"My dear, you address me as Angel, Master, Friend, Phantom, Opera Ghost, anything that you see fit. Why would I need another?"

"Oh, I see..." Christine replied, although she really didn't.

**A/N: Ok, yes! Chapter 2! Hopefully all that transitioning through time, and Christine's point of view in her dream vs. the Phantom's point of view in her dream wasn't all too confusing. **

**Oh, yeah:**

**Mon beau - my beautiful**

**Ange de Musique - Angel of Music**

**Faites Musique - make music**

**I don't know why I like to put these French words in here. It seems nice when addressing someone endearingly, but the 'make music' one seemed like she was preserving something her father had said to her. shrug**

**Review, review, review! PLEASE.**


	3. Night Unfurls It's Splendor

**A/N: Yes,the attractionbegins. Naturally, at some point, Erik (which is not what I call him in this story, as yet) must begin to have feelings for her at some point, but this will most likely change the events of the movie, so in here you see a bit of Christine's emotion too. I hope you like it! Also, 15 may seem young for Christine, but in actuality, it is one year before the movie takes place. So anyways, Enjoy!**

Chapter Three: Night Unfurls It's Splendor

_The year is 1869. Miss Daae is 15 years of age.

* * *

_

Christine woke in a cold sweat from another frightening dream, but for the first time, her angel had not comforted her. In actuality, the Phantom had been in is lair, and didn't realize that his precious gem was in pain, for if he had, he surely would have come running. He never meant to not be there for her. Christine though, as being young and quite naive, felt her world shattering around her when it seemed her one sense of security suddenly being absent. Her angel was never _not_ near her. _'Oh God,'_ she thought as she pushed her covers back, _'I need to get out.'_

Paris was far too dangerous at night to even think of leaving the opera house, this much she knew, but she knew that at least a walk around, getting out of her room, would help her clear her mind. After drifting from the dim light shining from the candles in the dormitory hallways, Christine realized that she wasn't prepared for the darkness that overtook the majority of the opera house at night. She thought momentarily of going back for a candle, but she thought it to be quite foolish to go all the way back to continue a journey with no destination. _'I know my way around here, even in the dark,' _she reasoned. What Christine didn't realize though, was that she _was_ being foolish.

While descending the great staircase in the heart of the opera house, she lost her footing on a stair, as she could see absolutely nothing but complete blackness. Her ankle twisted to the side and she fell to the ground. Her feet flew over her head and back again, and she toppled to the bottom of the grand staircase and lay in a heap at the bottom.

She found her breaths grow short and quick, not coming easily, and a sharp pain pounded from her ankle. She wanted to cry out in pain, but figured as hard as it was, silence was best. _'No one who could help is near, I can manage to get back myself, in just a few moments. Surely if anyone were to hear me anyway, I would be scolded for being out so late, and waking the performers who rose so early. Oh God, what have I gotten myself into?'_

Christine then noticed a small flickering light, that of a small candle, drawing near to her, and as it grew closer, it illuminated the silhouette of a man, wearing a cape. A knot formed in Christine's stomach, but at the same time, she knew that no harm would come to her. As the figure drew close enough that at any moment the candle might illuminate his face enough for Christine to realize the man's identity, suddenly, it disappeared.

She sat there for a moment, hearing nothing, seeing nothing, and feeling nothing, and it terrified her. Her own breathing seemed so loud that it would wake the entire city of Paris, not to mention her heartbeat. She nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt a form gloved hand slip over her mouth, but as soon as she felt hot breath on her ear, she was instantly calmed.

"Fear not, my love, your angel is here. I did not intend to frighten you." She knew instantly that she was safe, as he pulled his hand away, she knew that no harm would come to her. She felt the Phantom slip one arm under her knees and the other behind her back, and cradling her like a child, he sat on a step and pulled her onto his lap. Christine had forgotten her pain, forgotten the fear that had driven her out of her room, forgotten everything. Her angel was here, holding her, as she had always wanted him to.

'_Only,' _she thought, _'I wish it weren't so dark, so I could finally see him.' _

"_Ange de Musique,"_ she whispered, and brought her hand up and smoothed his hair, and he flinched. She continued to bring her hand down the right side of his face, feeling the smoothness of his skin, along the strong slop of his jawbone, down the his chin, and placed her fingers over his lips. He seemed to enjoy the closeness to her, but was apprehensive of her hand on his face. He slipped his arm from beneath her legs, grasped her hand, and pulled it away, kissing it, very gentleman like. _'Why doesn't he want to me to touch his face?' _

"Is anything the matter, angel?" He had never been this close to her before. He liked the closeness, yet it left him vulnerable. He realized then, as he sat there cradling Christine as a child, he realized that she wasn't that anymore: a child. _'What is happening to me? This is _Christine!'

"No, my dear. It's just, I-" he remembered the actual reason that he was holding her in such a way. "You are injured, darling."

"Oh yes. My ankle. I believe I twisted it when I, well, I fell down the stairs." Christine was now grateful for the darkness, as it hid her face that had reddened when he held her, and surely deepened at this embarrassment.

"Alright, my love." In one swift movement, he was standing, still cradling her, and was surprised at how light she was. Christine had not been carried like this since she was very young, by her father, but somehow she felt secure in his arms. He began the journey back to Christine's room, as he had made sure to put out the candles on his way down. He knew the way far better than Christine, and he couldn't bear for her to see him.

She felt them draw close to her room, and she was disappointed, which slightly surprised and confused her. _'Why should I want to stay in this man's arms like this?' _She had been reveling in the closeness with her angel, and didn't want him to return to a mere voice again.

She liked the feel of his thick hair through her fingers and smooth face, and as he carried her, she enjoy being encased within his strong arms and pressed against his muscular chest. Her head moving with the rise and fall of his chest, listening to his heartbeat, which had quickened as she lay in his arms, she felt almost a part of him - an attachment that had been broken off, and felt so right to finally be back in place.

Once again in her room, which she wondered how had become so dark, the Phantom laid her down on her bed, and to her surprise and delight, sat down next to her, and stroked her hair as they spoke, instead of somewhere far off in the shadows, where he was only a voice.

When he thought that she had fallen asleep, he leaned down andplaced a gentle kiss onher forehead, as if to say goodbye, but she spoke again.

"You rescued me." Christine felt his lips form a smile on her face, and she felt like she was seeing him smile, for the very first time, although she could see nothing, and he drew his face upward.

"Well I ask you, what else are angels for?" She sighed happily and threaded her fingers through his, a gesture which he enjoyed, but was unsure why.

"You were more than just my angel tonight."

"Was I now?" He didn't quite know where she was going.

"Yes. You were actually here, holding me. For the first time, I could feel you, not just hear you."

"You liked that, Christine?" She squeezed his hand.

"Yes, I did. I do."

"Well, I'm glad." He released his hand from hers and placed both hands on either side of her face, and placed another kiss on her forehead. Again, Christine was grateful that the darkness concealed her reddening cheeks. "I will write a note for Madame Giry, informing her of your injury. Do not get out of bed until she sees you, understand, my dear? I doubt that you will dance anytime soon." Christine sighed, but truly couldn't be upset, with her angel so close.

"Yes, Master. Will you sing for me please?"

"Of course, my angel."

* * *

"Oh, please Madame Giry! I won't be injured!" 

"Christine, you are _already_ injured. If you dance, it will only become worse! I will not allow you to do that.Your ankleis already swollen to twice it's normal size, look!"

"Well, what shall I do this whole time, lay in bed and rot?"

"Read. Study. Whatever you like. You finally have your own time, use it to your advantage, my dear." Christine was growing frustrated.

"So I'm just supposed to stay in bed for, God knows how long, to let my ankle heal? Madame, forgive the impertinence, but I will go mad!"

"Mademoiselle, don't argue. Besides, I understand you have a...friend here, to keep to accompanied."

"Madame Giry, how ever did you know?" The woman laughed softly.

"He left me the note about your ankle, do you not remember?" Christine smiled weakly. "The Opera Ghost seems quite fond of you, Christine." Christine blushed.

"He looks after me. He always has. I met him before I met you, and he saved me last night."

"Oh, I did mean to ask you. What happened? You went to bed unharmed and awoke with a possibly broken ankle. Quite unusual, I must say." Christine proceeded to tell this woman who had become like a mother to her, about her adventure last night, leaving out the details of how she felt in his arms, and that he had stayed behind talking to her softly, gently stroking her hair and holding her hand. These things seemed inappropriate to talk about, but felt extremely right to do. To Christine's relief, Madame didn't press for details, and there was no need to li, and she didn't seem disapproving. She simply smiled and said, "Well, rest up, Christine dear. I'm sure you will be in good company,"and walked out of the room.

* * *

"Angel?" 

"Yes, my beautiful?" Christine didn't know quite why, but it made her feel funny when he called her beautiful, and the possessive _my_ only added to it. It was a good funny though, like someone was tickling her insides with a feather, and she didn't understand it, but she liked it. '_What is happening?_' She had forgotten, with just a simple statement, everything else that had been going through her mind, including what she had intended to say.

"Oh, I um...I, oh!" The Phantom laughed softly, calming, not condescending. "Oh, yes! You are not upset that I told Madame Giry about you, are you? It seemed that she pretty much knew, that I should be truthful, you do send her letters and such after all."

"Yes, my girl, many people do know of me, but very few actually know me. As a person, with a soul and feelings, is what I mean. No one really, except you, and Giry. She rescued me from abandonment, many years ago, and brought me here to live, as she had you. She is a very kind woman, despite her strict outward appearance."

"Yes, I know that. Why were you abandoned, Master, and by who?" Phantom sighed.

"You should listen to Madame, and get some rest, child."

"Yes, my glorious angel. Sing for me?"

"A pleasure." He sang until he believed her to be asleep, and she pretended to be asleep until she believed him to be gone. In reality, he was content to watch over her in her sleep, and she pretended to get some time alone. He remained silent as he watched her open her eyes and stare at the ceiling, and blink away a tear. He couldn't bear to see her in so much despair, but he felt helpless. After all these years, she missed her father dearly. Phantom looked at the floor, until suddenly, he heard a voice. He didn't know that this child had such a voice within her.

Christine loved her angel, but she was realizing now, that he wasn't the same as a father.

"_You were once my one companion,_

_You were all that mattered,_

_You were once a friend and father,_

_Then my world was shattered."_

The Phantom didn't know what to do. He had no idea that Christine sang, or that she had so much pain inside her. Although she had closed her eyes again though, he knew that she wasn't asleep.

"Forgive the intrusion, my dear."

"Oh, _Ange_! I thought you had left!"

"I was about to, darling, when I heard your voice. It is lovely."

"Oh, well I was just, I mean, thank you." Christine felt her cheeks turn pink a this compliment. _'I wonder...with a little training...'_

"Christine, may I ask if there is something you might be interested in?"

**A/N: Oh, well, wasn't that fun? This was meant to be two chapters, but I didn't want to draw it out. Also, if you haven't caught on to what** _Ange de Musique_ **means by now, well then, you shouldn't be interested in stories that take place in Paris! **

**Thank you so much, Nadiir and PhantomPhan1911, for your encouraging reviews!**


	4. What's In A Name?

**A/N: This chapter seems like it might start to get 'dirty', but it won't I promise! I am a big fan of romance, but not of filth, you will never find that in my writing. I hope you like this chapter!**

Chapter 4: What's in a name?

"Oh, Master! You would really do that for me, every day!" He couldn't help but grin at her enthusiasm to him being her voice tutor. He had always longed to share his music with the world, and now...Well, he thought it to be ironic that in addition to him being her angel, she was his. He longed to tell her this, but decided not to.

"Of course, my sweet. It would be an honor. Meet me every night here, an hour before supper. You must commit to me, if I am to commit to you."

"Oh yes, of course!" Could this truly be? _'He may be a man, but he is _my_ angel.' _

"Mademoiselle, it will be an unparalleled delight, all the time I am to spend with you." Christine felt her cheeks grow hot, a reaction that she found herself feeling far too often around the Phantom, but still her mouth cracked into a smile as she responded.

"And I, you, my wonderful angel." _'What could this be that I am feeling?' _After a few more minutes of conversation, the Phantom released her to supper.

"You shan't be late, my dear."

* * *

After supper, Christine did not return to her own room, but to her good friend's. 

"Meg, what do you know about...love?" The petite 14-year-old let out a small giggle as she brushed her hair.

"What do you want to know about love, Christine?" Meg was a year younger, but Christine was undoubtedly more naive, especially in areas such as this. She pushed a dark curl that had fallen in her face back with the rest of her hair.

"Well I mean, I don't know if_ love_," she began. Love seemed awfully daunting and mature for Christine's youth, but she couldn't help but think of the one who seemed a synonym of the word to her. "I mean, what does one do if one finds oneself fond of someone, in a way that makes them think of romance, what is one to do about it?" Meg abruptly put her brush down and turned to face Christine who was watching the floor, red cheeked, while Meg wore a mischievous grin upon her face.

"Who are you fond of in such a way, Miss Daae?" Meg asked, wide-eyed. Christine felt her blush deepen, and hoped that Meg hadn't noticed, which of course, she had.

"No one, Meg! Oh really! I was simply wondering." Christine tried to act surprised at Meg's question, but knew it was useless.

"Sure." The blonde said smiling and sarcastic, as she turned back to face her mirror and continued to work the tangles from her hair. "Well, I suppose one should wait for her gentleman friend to make his affections known first, if they exist. I'm sure that I would hint for him though, in a way that wouldn't be improper, if I were this _hypothetical, non-existent _girl that you speak of." She smirked at her own sarcasm, and Christine smiled weakly before changing the subject.

"Are you fond on anyone in such a way, Meg?"

"Not really, honestly. There are many handsome men that come in and out of here to watch performances, but there are no performers or stage-hands or anything of the sort in which I feel any emotion toward." Christine smiled. She and Meg didn't often speak of such things, but Meg seemed so comfortable, whereas Christine couldn't stop blushing furiously throughout the entire conversation. Such things seemed so improper to her. They continued to converse for a few more minutes, before Christine returned to her dressing room.

* * *

The Phantom sat at his organ, trying to concentrate on writing music, but his thoughts were being entertained by something - someone - far more glorious than any music he could hope to compose. He felt like he shouldn't feel for Christine in the way that he did. He wanted to protect her not hurt her, and to see this repulsive carcass: her angel whom she thought and expected to be beautiful, well, he was sure that would only hurt her. Though no matter how hard her tried, he could not pull his thoughts away from her, he could not help his longing to hold her again. 

He realized how late it was becoming, and began to make his way down to Christine's mirror, to speak to her before she slept, and he knew, as she always requested, to sing to her. It had been that way for years, and neither of them grew tired of it.

* * *

Christine sat on her bed, thinking of the one whom she knew would arrive shortly._ "Mon Ange de Musique," _she whispered. Why was she feeling this way about him? She felt surges of joy when he was near, even if it was just his voice. She felt dissapointment when they parted, and she felt confusion about it all. _'How can this one man make me feel all of these things. My goodness, I've never even seen his face!' _

The young girl put her pounding head in her hands and began to cry. It was just too much. Why should she feel all these things for him, when all she knew of him was a voice, and a few minutes of being in his arms, in complete darkness. '_And_,' she thought, '_complete bliss_,' but the tears continued.

* * *

A tug of excitement pulled at the Phantom as he turned down the narrow hallway that led to Christine's mirror, which soon turned to sadness and worry as he watched his beloved with her head in her hands, managing shuddering breaths through her tears. He immediately felt rage at whatever was causing her tears, and wanted to end whatever it was that was making her sad. How was he to know that he was the cause of her tears? 

"Christine, angel, why are you upset?" Christine immediately felt that surge of mixed emotions, which should have made her tears worse, and although they still fell, her breathing grew calm and natural again. How could he do all these different things to her with just a voice? And what was she to tell him?

"I - I don't know," she lied, uncomfortably.

"Is there anything that I can do to help?" Christine knew that she longed for him to hold her, to ease her pain, but how could she ask that of him? She tried to ask him to, but really, for him to be the one to make the motion.

"Oh, I - I just...wish you were here."

"My darling, I am always here with you."

"But I mean right here, close to me. Like...like last night." She bit her lip fearing, that she had gone to far. Last night, he was simply helping her, because she was injured! She was sure that he thought her to be an immature little girl, when with a flicker, all the candles in her room went out, and a stunning darkness surrounded her. She sat quietly in the blackness for a few moments, wondering where he was, fearing that he had left, when suddenly she felt a warm hand surround hers. She was happy this time that he wasn't wearing gloves. She liked the feeling of the skin of his hand on hers, feeling his blood pulsing through his veins at a quicker rate than she knew. Then she felt the bed sink slightly next to her. There he was. Ever dream she had ever had, every emotion she had ever felt, everything that she felt she ever needed, was sitting on the bed next to her. He stroked her hand a few times before bringing it up around her shoulder, and pulling her close to him. He smiled as he felt her shiver, and bury her head in his muscular chest as he brought his other arm around her. He wondered how she fit so perfectly in his arms, like a puzzle piece that had gone missing, and he was sure that from this point out, he would never feel complete without her in his arms, where she belonged. Christine melted in his embrace, and she adored the feeling of is heart beating against her mind. He began to stroke her hair, and heard her let out a sigh: peace, contentment, pleasure.

"Please," Christine began in a whisper, in such a way that the Phantom knew that whatever she asked of him, he could not deny her. "Tell me your name." He leaned down and buried his face in her hair and whispered against her ear, provoking her to shiver.

"Erik."

**A/N: I liked writing this chapter. :-) Thank you SO MUCH to Llita1957, Nadiil, and Phantomfan1911 for your reviews, they are so helpful! Phantomfan1911, about the update speed, I'll try! As of now, I am so into writing this story, I have plenty a couple chapters uploaded at a time, and more written out by hand, but I like to keep it to one a day. :-) **

**Also, sorry if this chapter is shortish, I wanted to end it where I did on purpose. More coming soon!**


	5. First Rose & First Lesson

**A/N: Sorry that the update took so long! A lot of stuff has been going on! I have plenty of chapters written, I will type them up as soon as possible, I promise:)**

Chapter 5: First Rose & First Lesson

"Erik," she repeated, sending shivers down his spine. As he continued to stroke Christine's hair, he felt her weight lean into him a little more and he could tell that she was drifting into slumber.

"Maybe, my dear, I should leave now and return tomorrow. I can tell that you are tired."

"No, no, it's ok. I'm not tired," she responded through a yawn, muffled by their embrace. Erik leaned back onto her pillow, bringing her with him and brought both of their legs up, still holding onto her, as if for life. Christine slid her arms up around Erik's neck and fell into a deep and peaceful sleep. He knew when she had fallen asleep, but laid there, with Christine in his arms, until daylight began to creep over the horizon. When he saw the smallest glimpse of sunlight through her window, it was then that he disappeared again, through her mirror, back down to where sunlight would never reach. Before he left though, he left behind something. Deep red in color, with a jet black ribbon tied around the stem, he set the rose on her stomach, and left it there for her to find.

On his way back, he began to wonder what it had meant, and his mind filled with doubt. He knew what it had meant to him, the feeling of contentment and joy, to have Christine in his arms, fitting so perfectly, and having her heart beating against him. What had Christine felt though? Had she simply needed comfort, and there he was, her friend? Or would she ever be able to love him? _'Of course not,' _he thought, suddenly remembering the flaw in his seemingly perfect affections for her, which he now knew there was no taking back._ 'Completely perfect, except for me.' _He reached up and traced the edge of his mask with his fingertips. Erik then decided never to let himself be that close to her ever again, as much as he wanted to. What if she had reached up and felt his mask? It's too dangerous. And what if more had happened? The further their relationship would go, she would have to see him at some point. 'No. No good can ever come from this.'

Erik was though, grateful that he had given her his name, a piece of him, which he surely wouldn't have told her if he hadn't been in such a state of vulnerability with her. Most people give out their names all over the place, but Erik of course, was not most people.

His mother had named him. She told him his name, but never addressed him by it. She gave him a mask and let him take care of himself, until he was about 5 or 6, when she sold him to a circus as a sideshow. He had been the Devil's Child, the Opera Ghost, the Angel of Music, but never had he been Erik, until that night. Still, he wanted no one else to know, as if there was anyone who would. It was Christine's little secret of him, and he liked it that way.

* * *

**The next day -One hour before supper**

Erik felt his heart jump as Christine walked over to the mirror where he stood, about to speak, to gaze at her reflection. Although he knew that she couldn't see him through the two-way mirror, but it felt so strange having her there, face to face with him. He smiled as she began to mess with her dress and hair, obviously eager to look her best. _'Could it be for me?' _he thought, but quickly pushed the thought aside. He needed to be focusing on how he would train her, not her cascading curls, flawless skin, and full lips..._'Stop!_' He was getting carried away with deciding what he needed to not think about! Christine walked away from her mirror, and sat down.

"Good evening, Christine." Are you ready for your first lesson?" She grinned.

"Of course, Master."

* * *

**A couple months later...**

"Christine," said the voice that followed a few sharp knocks. "May I come in?" Christine smiled, recognizing the voice.

"Yes ma'am, of course." It was Madam Giry, who had come with some welcome news for the quite restless 15 year old.

"I believe that you are ready to dance again. It seems that you are healed." She delivered the news with a smile.

"Oh really, Madam? How wonderful!"

"Yes, my dear. You may continue training tomorrow morning."

* * *

Night after night, month after month, Erik taught her and sang to her, but it seemed to Christine that there was more distance than ever before. He was always very kind to her, and also quite possessive and protective, but he made no movement to be near her again, and there was no mention of when he had been. It had all seemed so real, but Christine couldn't help but wonder if it had all been a dream. She had, indeed, had so many dreams like it before. Even as a child, without the sound of her heart racing at the closeness or the want for romance, she had always had dreams of her holding her and comforting her. The way that she felt now though, was much different. The confusion and hurt in her had deepened, but she showed no sign of it.

Day after day, Christine's voice grew better and stronger, and Erik was quite proud of her progress. His feelings for her though, had not gone away. On the contrary, they had deepened, day after day. Being apart from human contact every day is enough to drive anyone insane, but to love someone so much...Well, Erik knew that he couldn't bear it much longer.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry for the shortness of this chapter! Also, again, sorry about how long it took me to update, I feel bad. :( **

**Thank you for the reviews!**

**Nadiil:** Thanks! I will _try _to get back to a chapter a day again, I promise. I am glad that my characters are in...well, character. I am always worried about that. :)

**Phantomfan1911:** Awe, I'm glad you are interested to see what happens! I like updating fast, I feel bad when I can't. I wasn't at my house so...yeah. :P

**Lillta1957: **Thank you so much! I am so happy that you like my story!

Also, can anyone tell me what EOW means:0 I'm assuming it is Erik something, but I am so slow on the F/F language,& I keep seeing it. :P Thanks guys:)


	6. Childhood Sweethearts

**A/N: No reviews on chapter 5...:(. Please, please review...

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Chapter 6: Childhood Sweethearts

Rehearsals for Hannibal started exactly one week after Christine's sixteenth birthday. The ballet girls had give her a small party with presents and sweets, but she couldn't help but feel that the most special part of the day was the bouquet of 16 roses, blood red in color, tied together with a black ribbon, that had been left on her bed. After so many months, she still longed to be near her mysterious angel, though she knew not why.

She liked the ballet that they would be preforming for Hannibal and she loved the music, so she would have enjoyed rehearsals, but La Carlotta's voice was less than pleasant, and her daily temper tantrums sent even the most patient men on their last nerve. Christine and Meg chatted while making their way from the dormitories to the stage. They waited off stage, but through the music and talking, they could still hear Carlotta's complaints.

"Ah me, not on my dress! Why?" Before the ballet began rehearsing, they could hear the manager speak.

"May I have your attention, please everyone?" Everyone became quiet, so every word was heard. "As you know, there have been rumors of my imminent retirement. I can all tell you that these were all true, and it is my pleasure to introduce you to the two gentlemen who now own the Opera Populaire: Monsieur Richard Firmin and Monsieur Gilles Andre." Everyone clapped, out of politeness. "I'm sure that you have read of their recent fortune in the junk business..."

"Scrap metal, actually," Monsieur Andre interrupted. Christine stifled a giggle as she saw Meg roll her eyes. These men do not know what they're getting themselves into.

"And we are deeply honored to introduce our new patron," Monsieur Firmin announced, although Christine really was listening to Meg speak. "Le Viscomte De Chany!" Meg's voice drifted from Christine's mind as she heard this name be announced. _'Could it be?' _Christine thought. _'Could it be him?' _Christine, Meg, and more of the ballet girls moved in closer to get a better look at this handsome new patron.

"It's Raoul," Christine whispered. This boy, who was now a man, that Christine knew from so long ago, approached the new managers, as Meg gave Christine a questioning look, so she continued. "Before my father died, at the house by the sea..." Christine smiled, her mind flooded with memories. "I guess you could say we were childhood sweethearts. He called me Little Lotte."

"Christine, he's so handsome!" Meg exclaimed, and Christine smiled. Memories flooded her mind as Raoul spoke: those of him diving into the sea to rescue her scarf ensnared by the wind, and of how he used to love to watch the imagination spark in her eyes, and try to guess what she was daydreaming about. She had thought little of him since she came to live at the opera house. It was like she had two different lives: before and after her father died, and they never crossed paths, until now.

"My parents and I are deeply honored to support all the arts, especially the world renowned Opera Populaire," Raoul's voice snapped Christine back into the present. Everyone rolled their eyes as he was introduced to La Carlotta, except for her mother, who cheered for her as always, but plugged her ears when she sang. After a few more introductions, Raoul left, passing Christine without a word.

"He wouldn't recognize me," Christine stated disappointedly to her friend.

"He didn't see you," she consoled. Their minds though, were to be put on the ballet as rehearsals began. Christine and Meg became completely lost in her dancing, as always, and Madame Giry bragged to the new managers of the ballet.

"We take a particular pride in the excellence of our ballet, monsieur."

"I can see why. Especially that little blonde angel." Monsieur Firmin pointed Meg out.

"_My_ _daughter_, Meg Giry," Madame stated, defensively.

"And that exceptional beauty! No relation, I trust?" He motioned toward Christine, hoping she wasn't another daughter.

"Christine Daae. Promising talent, Monsieur Firmin. Very promising." Christine heard the mention of her name, but continued to dance.

"Daae, you say? No relation to the famous Swedish violinist?" Christine nearly stumbled as she heard them mention her father, so decided to discontinue listening, as not wanted to embarrass herself.

"His only child. Orphaned at 7, when she came to live and train in the ballet dormitory."

"An orphan, you say?" No more could be heard by anyone, through the loud music, but Carlotta decided to throw another temper tantrum, because the new managers were paying more attention to the ballet girls than herself. She decided to leave, but was persuaded not to, by the opportunity to show off by preforming an aria from Act 3 of Hannibal. No one really, had been listening, but everyone saw what happened next.

"_...when you find that once again you long to take your heart back and be free_-" A large piece of set came crashing down upon her. Christine sighed. It's Him. It has to be. Who else?

"He's here! The Phantom fo the Opera!" Meg exclaimed, and Christine remained silent. Really, it was, but not in so many words. Carlotta again threw a fit and left, causing the new managers to nearly have a heart attack, and Madame Giry reading them a note that Erik had sent didn't help much. Everyone else was used to it. Christine and Meg talked some with the other ballet dancers. Christine's attention though, was caught by Madame Giry mentioning her name.

"Christine Daae could sing it, sir."

"What, a chorus girl?"

"Don't be silly." Christine hoped that Madame would convince them, which she was good at.

"She has been taking lessons from a great teacher."

"Who?" Christine didn't know what to say. She couldn't tell them the truth, they would think her as insane as anyone else.

"I don't know his name, Monsieur."

"Let her sing for you, Monsieur. She has been well taught."

"All right." Christine was flooded with fear and shyness, but she was confidant in what Erik had taught her, so she began. She finished the aria flawlessly, and the managers were quite impressed. They offered her the lead - Carlotta's role - and she gladly accepted.

They continued to rehearse furiously for the remainder of the day. Early morning when they started, to an hour before the show they rehearsed, for they only had that one day to prepare. Christine was allowed an hour of rest before she was to begin getting ready. In her dressing room, she and her angel spoke.

"Oh Erik! Were you watching did you see!"

"I did, my beautiful. You did very well. I am quite proud of you." Christine blushed.

"Master, without your training, I would be no where. You alone inspired my voice. You are by far the most excellent tutor one could ever hope for." Erik couldn't help but feel the way he did for her. He wished to reach out and embrace her, but he was sure that she could never feel the same way. If she did for a moment, she wouldn't after she saw him. His mask alone would frighten her, but underneath...he couldn't bear to think of it.

"Thank you, Christine. I have a wonderful student. You have a long night ahead of you though, you should get some rest."

* * *

"_Please promise me that sometimes, you will think...o-o-o-o-o-of! Me!_" Thunderous applause resounded throughout the audience, and Christine stood smiling. In her mind, she was only hoping to please Erik, and her father. She was happy though, to see her childhood friend standing and clapping - grinning widely. He had finally recognized her.

After the show, while the party was going on, Christine escaped down to the room where she and Erik had first met, to light a candle for her father. She hoped that he was proud of her. She smiled slightly, in remembrance of him, when she heard Erik's voice.

"Bravi, bravi, bravissimi..." She looks up, but Meg entered the room, and she knew he would remain silent.

"Christine, Christine!...Where in the world have you been hiding? Really, you were perfect. I only wish I knew your secret. Who is your great tutor?"

"Oh really, Meg. I told you it's a secret!" Christine giggled, and so did Meg.

"Fine...You really must join the party though, Christine! You are the star!" Meg walked out of the room, and Christine followed, and in the doorway, Christine turned around and blew a kiss, before following Meg down and joining the party.

* * *

All of the attention overwhelmed Christine, so she whispered to Madame Giry that she would like to return to her room. Without a word to her, she helped her fight off the crowds and make her way to her dressing room. Once in her room with her, Madame spoke.

"You did very well, my dear." She picked up Erik's customary rose - deep red with a black ribbon around the stem - that he had left on her table. "He is pleased with you." Madam Giry left, but Christine remained, lost in thought, as she fingered the black ribbon tied around the rose. All her feelings for him pulsed through her, and so did the pain of the distance that he had kept.

Erik smiled as he approached the mirror to see Christine holding the rose that he had left her, with such a look of enchantment in her eyes.

"Bravo, my sweet." Christine whipped her head up.

"Erik!" She set the rose down on her dressing table, and sat down, smiling.

"You did wonderfully, Christine." Her door opened suddenly, and Erik became silent. In walked Christine's childhood friend, looking quite handsome, with flowers in his hand, but Christine didn't notice until he spoke.

"Little Lotte let her mind wander." Christine looked up and smiled. "Little Lotte thought, am I fonder of dolls or of goblins or shoes?"

"Raoul..." He continued.

"Or of riddles or frocks?"

"Those picnics in the attic..." she remembered aloud.

"Or of chocolates?" He finished with a smile.

"Father playing the violin,"

"As we read to each other, dark stories of the North..."

"No. 'What I love best,' Lotte said, 'Is when I'm asleep in my bed, _and the Angel of Music sings songs in my head.'_"

"_The Angel of Music sings songs in my head_." they finished together.

"You sang like an angel tonight." Erik winced as they embraced. They continued to converse, and Raoul insisted that she join him for dinner.

"No Raoul, the Angel of Music is very strict."

"Well, I shan't keep you up late." His sarcasm really was offending.

"Raoul, no."

"You must change! I'll order my carriage. Two minutes, Little Lotte."

"No, Raoul, wait!" The door closed behind him and Christine sat down. _'Did he even hear me?_' He was being awfully pushy. He expected her in two minutes, although she declined. She sighed.

"Are you still there, Erik?"

"Of course, my love. Who was that?"

"He was my friend before Father died. He dove into the sea to fetch my scarf, and we played almost every day before I came to live here. He really was a charming child."

"Apparently things change...slave of fashion..." Christine heard him say under his breath, and she laughed out, surprised. Was he jealous? Christine smiled at this thought.

"Christine, darling, are you..." Erik tried to choose his words properly. "Fond..of him?"

"Oh yes! He was my friend, so long ago, I am happy to see him again." She paused, and continued, thinking he probably meant something else. "Only as that though. Nothing more, I assure you." Erik smiled in silence, and Christine spoke again. "Erik. My angel, my love..." His heart melted. "Come to me please. Hide no longer, my darling." Erik sighed. He could deny her nothing. Forgetting the mask he wore, he sang out to her.

"_Beautiful Child, you shall know me,_

_See why in shadow, I hide,_

_Look at your face in the mirror,_

_I am there inside!_"

Christine turned to her mirror, and stood in front of it, confused. Her mirror, which apparently was a door, slid open, and his figure appeared. She finally understood. There he stood in front of her, more amazing and mysterious than she had dreamt it. He wore dress clothes, his black hair was slicked back, and he was incredibly handsome, except for one side of his face, which he wore a white mask. He held his hand out to her, and with her stomach and knots and her heart pounding wildly in her ears, she shuddered as she grasped his outstretched hand.

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A/N: I know that followed the movie a lot, but the events will be changed quite a lot. :) Again, please, REVIEW!**


	7. The Labyrinth

Chapter 7: The Labyrinth

Erik began to lead Christine to his lair, not letting go of her hand. He wasn't sure why, but somehow he was afraid that if he let go of her hand, that she wouldn't be there when he turned around. Even still, with her hand in his, he looked back every once in a while, making sure still of her presence following him. It had been so long since he had felt her, and now, he wasn't sure if he could ever let go.

Christine had no objections. If at all possible, her immense feelings for him grew the moment their hands met. She held to him tightly. At the end of the long passageway, around a corner, there was a black horse. Christine recognized it, it was used for an Opera and then disappeared afterwards, to the fault of the Opera Ghost, the rumor told it. Erik smiled as he watched Christine stroke the animal's face and kiss it's nose, before he slid her hands around her waist and listen her atop of it. Erik led the horse down the long hallway with Christine atop it's back, her legs dangling over it's left side. Erik and Christine sang back and forth, a perfect and strange duet. Their voices blended perfectly together to create a sound that they had only imagined they could make. Christine had always been captivated by his voice, but here, with him before her, her mind filled with no thoughts of her own, only with the aesthetic voice resounding from the walls.

Erik helped Christine off of the horse and led her to a boat that floated atop of misty underground lake that she had no idea existed. She sat down and Erik poled his way across the lake, and the mysterious tunnels of the labyrinth that held ancient artwork and hundreds of candles. As they approached a large gate that lifted as they got close, Erik spoke to her.

"Sing, my angel of music!" His angel? She didn't have ponder it, she only wanted to please him. She began to vocalize strangely, and he encouraged her. "Sing, my angel! Sing for me!" Christine hit the highest E just as they met land. Erik jumped out of the boat.

"I have brought you to the seat of sweet music's throne, to this kingdom where all must pay homage to music, music." She stared at him, charmed. "You have come here, for one purpose and one alone: since the moment I first heard you sing, I have needed you with me, to serve me, to sing for my music, my music." He led her from the boat and they wandered about his home, him singing to her the entire way. She was completely enchanted by him. He led her to the mannequin that he had made of her, complete in a wedding dress, curious to how she might react. Christine looked at what seemed to be herself donned in wedding clothing, and felt herself faint in surprise.

Erik caught his precious gem effortlessly in his arms and carried her to his bed. He laid her down and smiled at her beauty. He stroked her cheek before pulling a veil down to surround the bed and leaving her to sleep. "You alone can make my song take flight, help me make the music of the night..." he finished his song. He gazed at her in awe for a short time, before retreating to his organ to pass the time.

Normally, Erik knew he would be lost in his music for hours at a time, but he couldn't help but let his thoughts drift to his sleeping angel in the next room. He longed to be near her, but out of respect for her, restrained himself to his organ until she arose. While he sat there, attempting to distract himself, his mind started to drift to the reality of what he had promised himself never to do, and had done. He had taken this innocent child down to his deep and dark hell - and what of his face? She soon would wonder what laid behind the mask that covered his gruesome true self.

The sound that resounded through his ears at the next second caused him to forget his flaws and close his eyes in pleasure - her voice.

"I remember there was mist," Christine wandered from the bedroom, and the mysterious and beautiful swan bed that she had awoken on. "Swirling mist upon a vast glassy lake," She had been so sure she was dreaming, but here, her dreamland surrounded here, as real as could be. She had awoken, but had it been a dream within a dream? It all felt so real... "There were candles all around and on the lake there was a boat," she continued, stunned that everything she remembered from her dream was around her. The last thing, the most important and wonderful thing... "And on the boat there was a man." Erik opened his eyes and turned to look at her. His face, half of it so handsome, half of it, masked. The dreaded mask that separated him, she needed to see him. "Who was that shape in the shadows? Whose is that face in the mask?" She stood behind him and ran her fingers along the edge of the white barrier. _'I need to know...'_ and with one swift movement, the mask was off of his face. Momentarily unmasked, for the first time in more than 20 years in from of someone, he burst forth with the anger and shame that accompanied his naked and disfigured face. He pushed Christine to the floor, and covered the wicked disfigurement with his hand, and began.

"Damn you! You little prying pandora! You little demon! This is what you wanted to see..." He pulled the cover off of a mirror and gazed at his reflection momentarily before turning away in disgust. "Curse you! You little lying Delilah! You little viper! Now you cannot ever be free! Damn you, curse you..." Christine pulled back in fear of this sudden outburst as her eyes welled up with tears, and was surprised to see how quickly his anger turned to despair, right before her eyes, and he continued.

"Stranger than you dreamt it, can you even dare to look or bear to think of me? This loathsome gargoyle who burns in hell but secretly dreams of heaven. Secretly, secretly. But Christine, fear can turn to love. You'll learn to see to find the man behind this monster. This repulsive carcass who seems a beast but secretly dreams of heaven. Secretly, secretly. Oh, Christine..." Erik collapsed a few feet away from Christine, still covering his face. He didn't want her to be so horrified to see his repulsiveness, or to see his tears of loneliness and despair. He didn't realize that what he did hurt her more. Christine blinked away a tear of her own as she set the terrible mask on the floor beside her. She made her way to where Erik sat away from her, and was pained to see the tears that streaked the uncovered side of his face. She sighed, building up courage - she feared another outburst. Still, she gently placed her hand over his and brought it down, away from his face. She drew it to his lap and held it tightly. She ran her fingers that weren't intertwined with his along the side of his marred face.

"Oh Erik..." she whispered and pressed her lips to his cheek. He couldn't believe what she had just done. She didn't hate him? How could this be? He felt his lips quiver slightly and tears threaten to fall once more. Christine smiled slightly and leaned in a little closer to him. Without thinking, Erik closed the distance between them and kissed her softly on the mouth, an sensation that neither had experienced before. That moment that they connected, it felt to them as if their blood was pulsing through each others veins, that their breath was in each others lungs. With their eyes closed, they blindly soaked in the feel of each other: the closeness that they had both longed for, for so long. Erik then pulled away, unsure of his actions. Christine opened her eyes to see his disfigured face only inches from her aesthetic one. She saw only beauty, she felt only love. She saw him blink away another tear and look down. Christine gently brushed his tears away with her finger tips, and drew his face upward with her hand. Again, their lips met. Erik pulled away slightly, and very softly sang against her lips.

"Christine, I love you." She shuddered with satisfaction. She leaned into him, with her head against his chest, and reveled in the feeling of his strong arms around her.

* * *

**A/N: **

Now, everyone say, awwwww. This chapter had alot of gushyness, but something really bad will happen in about two or so chapters, so beware.

Thank you to Lillta1957**, the single person who reviewed on my last chapter**.


	8. We Must Return

**A/N: Thank you to my reviewers! I love you!**

**Ethalas Tuath'an: Thank you so much, I am glad you like it! Those are the real lyrics, and I love that song, but is so sad. :(**

**Leah Day: Thank you! I didn't even realize I was doing that, thats helpful!**

**Phantomfan1911: Oh thank you! I'm glad you think it was written well, I'm always worried about it making sense. :P**

**AliciaRoseM: Oh my goodness, thank you! I'm glad it's a favorite!**

**Lady Winifred: Aww, I thought so too, but it turns out, it's hard to write a story that is just them being sweet and making out all the time. Yes, bad things happen, I'm sorry, but ErikChristine forever! woo! hehe :)

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**

Chapter 8: We Must Return

Erik reluctantly broke their embrace, and stood. Once he was on his feet, he offered his hands down to Christine, to help her up.

"Come," he spoke as she stood, meeting her lips with a small kiss. "We must return," he felt Christine squeeze his hands in longing, but he continued. "Those two fools who run my theater will be missing you." At this, Christine laughed.

"Monsieur Andre and Monsieur Firmin! Fools, are they?" He smiled a half-smile (A/N: God, I melt at Gerard Butler's slightly silly half smile that he does so wonderfully!), grabbed his mask, and put it on.

"Indeed they are." Christine's smile faded after a few moments and she slid her arms beneath Erik's, and buried her face in his muscular chest. He pulled his arms around her tightly.

"Oh Angel, I never want to leave here, with you." He kissed her curly hair.

"I'm afraid you must, my love." She sighed and listened to his heart beat her cheek. It was as if his heart beats to a melody; everything about the man seemed to be musical, as if it was all he had ever known. Finally, Erik reluctantly broke their embrace, though he didn't want to, ever. He gently took her hand and led her to the boat. He stepped in, and still grasping her hand, helped her in. Instead of sitting as she had before, Christine stood and held tightly around Erik's waist. As he gracefully poled across the misty lake through the tunnels of the labyrinth, Christine still wished she could stay with him. Erik inhaled sharply as he felt Christine place a few small kissed on his neck. He turned his head down to meet her waiting lips with yet another kiss, just as they reached land.

Erik slid his arms around her waist and listed her out of the boat, before mounting the horse. Once atop, he reached his hand down and pulled her up in front of him. The beautiful black horse began to walk the familiar distance pf the long hallway, and Christine leaned back into Erik, reveling in the feeling of his muscles surrounding her. He placed a kiss atop her head and she looked up. Their eyes locked, although upside down, and Erik leaned down and pressed his lips to hers.

"Oh Erik," Christine whispered, raising her arms up and back and wrapping them around his neck. "I love you." These words made his heart beat speed in a way that he had before not imagine three simple words could do, and he knew that he needed to be beside her, always. He felt like he could never have enough of her. He decided though, out of respect for Christine's innocence, that he would restrain himself.

Once at the end of the long pathway that the horse took them, he jumped off and helped her down. Hand in hand, they ascended the stairway and walked another long pathway that finally brought them to Christine's mirror - the doorway to her room. Christine was surprised at how clearly she saw through.

"So this is how you spoke to me all these year?. This is why you requested this room for me when I was so young?" The Phantom smiled and nodded. A few seconds passed, and Christine felt disappointment flood her soul once more. She wrapped her arms around her beloved. He closed his eyes and ran his fingers up and down her spine - the laces of her corset, really though. They stood there like that, until a few sharp knocks were heard at Christine's door. She gasped softly and looked at Erik, but his loving eyes made her fear disappear. She opened the mirror door and answered.

"One moment, please!" She then turned back to Erik and smiled. She rested her hands on his chest and stood slightly on her toes, and he leaned down and kissed her gently. Lost in the moment, they continued kissing until the person at the other side of the door grew impatient and knocked again.

"Meg, stop! She said wait!" They broke from their kiss and Christine laughed softly.

"Madame Giry and Meg are at my door. I must go." Erik smiled and whispered in her ear,

"I love you." before placing another small kiss on her lips.

"I love you, too," she whispered back, with a twinkle in her eye, before stepping through the doorway and closing it behind her. Erik hurried back to his lair to write the many notes that he planned to send.

* * *

Christine walked to her door and opened it.

"Dear God, child! Where have you been all night! And whose was that voice I heard?" Christine looked at the floor.

"Christine, your mirror! IT's a doorway, I saw last night while you were missing!" The innocent blonde was ignored.

"I was with _him, _Madame. His was the voice you heard. He brought me down to where he lives. I..." Christine squinted as she glanced to her open window letting in the morning light. "I didn't realize that I was out all night. Forgive me."

"Your face is so pale, child! You need to rest. I won't bother you any longer."

"Thank you, Madame." Christine grabbed Meg's hand and squeezed slightly, smiling, and Meg smiled back before closing the door.

Christine went to her bed and laid down without closing her eyes. She was exhausted, but so many thoughts burst through her mind like wildfire. Her mind was filled with enchantment: thoughts of the night which seemed so unreal. How could so much have happened in just one night? She sighed in joy, and fell into a peaceful sleep.

* * *

Christine opened her eyes when she heard a knock on her door. She put her legs over the side of her bed, sitting up, and smoothed her hair.

"Come in?" Raoul de Chany walked in and shut the door behind him, and sat next to Christine on the bed.

"Where were you last night. You never showed up for dinner and then all night...they said no one had seen you."

"I was..." She glanced at her mirror. "I...I told you that I couldn't go, you didn't listen."

"I'm sorry, my dear." Raoul placed his hand atop hers, and she stood up defensively, pulling it away.

"It's...it's alright. It's fine." Raoul stood as well.

"Maybe we should catch up another time then?" He smiled and Christine let a breath out, her discomfort fading. She smiled.

"That would be nice."

* * *

Raoul leaned his back against Christine's door once he closed it behind him, leaving her in her room to change. She had been missing all night, and when she finally appears, she is dressed in the attire of the night before.

Who was this girl? Surely she wasn't the Christine that he had known so many years ago. He felt instantly attracted to her the moment he saw her after so many years, but she didn't seem to feel the same. _'Quite a curious girl..._' he thought as he made his way down the hallway, when another body collided with his own, forcing them both to the floor. Raoul blinked a few times before standing, and offering his hands down to the pretty blond that sat on the floor, wide-eyed, surprised from the sudden fall.

"Forgive me, Mademoiselle...?" The girl accepted his hands.

"Giry. Meg." She smiled as Raoul pulled her to her feet. She stood, her face closer to the handsome Viscomte's than she had expected. Their eyes locked, and neither of them let out a breath for what seemed like an eternity, until someone else approached.

"Meg, what are you doing? I asked you to go check on Christine!" Meg gasped softly and let go of Raoul's hand, embarrassed.

"I'm sorry, Mother, forgive me. We..." She looked up at Raoul and blushed. "We knocked into each other. And forgive me as well please, Viscomte." Madame Giry sighed and left, leaving the two alone again.

"I'm sorry, Monsieur." Meg turned to leave, forgetting about Christine, but Raoul caught her hand.

"Raoul, call me Raoul," he said with a smile. Meg grinned as well.

"And Meg."

* * *

A/N: Sorry Raoul-haters! Did you like it anyway?

Anywho, can anyone tell me what EOW or EOC means? I keep seeing these, and I tottally have no clue what they mean. Yeah, I'm new to the whole F/F scene. :P Thanks!


	9. Il Muto

**A/N: Oh my gosh, I love you guys for reviewing and everything! I feel so happy, hehe.**

**phantomphan1911: Thank you! I am not entirely fond of Raoul, but I think he deserves a break after so many people make him evil and kill him, hehe. But poor Phantom, he gets left alone, every time I watch the movie. He wins this time though. :)**

**Mimi90316: Thank you for the help! And thank you for the compliment:blush:**

**Ethalas Tuath'an: The RaoulMeg thing is basically implied, I may put some more stuff in there, but Erik and Christine are definately the main focus. I like Raoul hating and nice to Raoul stories, personally, so no worries. :)**

**ReganX: Oh, a new reviewer! You are an awesome reviewer, lol! I love the comments you left me on each chapter, they are so greatly appriciated, and I'm glad you are enjoying the story!**

**Thank you to everyone who helped me figure out the OtherCharacter / OtherWoman deal, I was so bugged and confusedby that! Enjoy...la la la..Chapter 9!**

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Chapter 9: Il Muto

Christine smoothed her hair in the mirror, just as she heard a sharp knock on her door.

"Yes?"

"Are you decent, Christine?"

"Yes, Madame, come in." Madame Giry walked in to Christine's room, closing the door behind her, and was surprised to see Christine awake, let alone dressed and ready. Christine smiled, a smile brighter than anyone had seen on the girl, the smile of a woman in love. Madame Giry felt bad to deliver the bad news, seeing the girl so happy, but she did so, reluctantly.

"My dear, I am aware that you had been hoping for the role of the Countess in the new production of Il Muto tonight." Christine's smile faded. "It seems that Carlotta has returned. Despite your triumph in Hannibal and the fact that your...friend, the Opera Ghost, has commanded the role be given to you, the new managers have cast La Carlotta instead. There is a promised disaster in the working, I should expect, from the Phantom." Christine was disappointed, but accepted the news gracefully.

"Thank you Madame, there is always next time." The older woman squeezed the girls hands lovingly before departing. Once she was gone, Christine sat on her bed, thinking. What had she done wrong? Why was Carlotta chosen instead? After a few minutes had passed, another knock was heard.

"Come in," Christine said absently, assuming it was Madame Giry again, for whatever reason. The door creaked open and the rotten smell of liquor and sweat drew her gaze upward to the vile man that was closing her door behind him. Her eyes grew wide. The filthy and obviously intoxicated man by the name of Joseph Bouquet walked toward her slowly, his eyes hungry. Christine stood defensively, innocent and frightened.

"Monsieur?" Christine stammered, her eyes full of fear. He had seen Christine a few times when he peered in on the ballet girls changing, he knew she was very beautiful. She had caught his attention though, when she starred in Hannibal, as she had most everyone's. This vile man, who continued to creep toward Christine was a disgusting drunk with awful thoughts, but when one is as heavily intoxicated as he was, thoughts very easily turn to actions - actions that this particular 16 year old was too young or innocent to be forced to experience.

"Miss Christine Daae." The girls tear filled eyes widened and she shuddered with fear.

"C-Can I help you?" Her voice was weak and tremulous and she continued to back away from him until her back was against the wall - she had no where to go.

"You're such a pretty girl, Christine..." he muttered, his words slurred. His hand slithered around her waist and she shuddered in fear and disgust, as his other hand covered her mouth, stifling her screams. She felt as if she might faint, but knew she couldn't. '_God knows what he could easily do if I were unconscious..._' she thought, causing the fear in herself to rise. She struggled to free herself, but her body was to small and fragile against Bouquet's large one. He then nuzzled his face against her neck and held tightly to her waist and the tears flooded Christine's face. She whimpered and attempted stifled screams against his hand, but her efforts were obviously failing. She could feel his hot and disgusting breath against her neck and she was to the point now where she was attempting shuddering breaths through her tears, and she could barely breathe, and she was shaking violently. He threw her onto the bed, keeping his hand over her mouth tightly still, and she shut her eyes tightly, fearing the seemingly inevitable pain which was to come. He was hovering over her, and she felt a drop of dirty sweat land on her cheek.

In one swift movement, someone had lifted her from the bed and was now cradling her like a child in arms of strength and love. She opened her eyes.

"Oh, Erik, Erik!" she cried out, throwing her arms around his neck, holding to him tightly as she could, afraid to let go. He tightened his hold on Christine as his deep and penetrating, and now quite angry eyes pierced through to Joseph's blank ones, where he stood, eyes wide, jaw dropped.

"Get out!" he shouted in a voice so loud and furious that made Christine bury her face in his chest. The vile drunk backed slowly out, and then turned and ran down the hall, slamming the door behind him. Erik sat on Christine's bed, still cradling her.

"Erik, Erik, Erik," she mumbled hysterically into his chest, barely audible. She feared that somehow her beloved would be gone, and she would be in the arms of...No, she couldn't even think it. "Thank you, Erik, oh, thank you," she held to him tighter. "I don't even want to imagine what could have happened without you."

"You won't have to, mon ange. You are safe now, I promise." He kissed her forehead, and the feeling of his lips against her skin relaxed her. He looked in her eyes, filled with such vulnerability and fear, with tears streaking down her face, and to see her in such a way killed him.

"Will you sing for me, please?"

"Of course." He sang to her until her tears turned to slumber. Even in her sleep, her expression was distorted with such a look of anguish. He kissed each of her tear stained cheeks, and held her, waiting for her to awake.

* * *

"Erik, help me, my Erik!" Erik's heart jumped and his attention snapped to Christine as she called for him in her sleep.

"I'm here, I'm here," he whispered in her ear, and she opened her eyes, and they locked with Erik's. She threw her arms around his neck.

"Oh, Erik, I thought you had left me!" She pulled in close to him.

"Never..."

"No I meant," she pressed her cold hand to his unmasked cheek, and he put his atop hers. "I know you never would. I...I had a nightmare, though, that you did." He leaned down and pressed a small and gentle kiss on her lips, and she held to him a few more minutes before getting up. "I must go, I must get ready for tonight. I'm playing..." she paused, knowing he wouldn't be happy with the managers disobedience in regards to the casting. "Well, the pageboy."

"What?" He scoffed. "Ignorant fools. I told then to-"

"Erik, I'm frightened. What if he finds me? What if he tries to..." her voice trailed off. "I don't know what I would do."

"Christine, I will protect you, always. He will get what he deserves, I assure you."

* * *

The expression of fear and despair that was upon Christine's innocent face concerned Madame and little Giry, but their assumption was that she was disappointed due to the recent miscasting of the managers. Christine walked toward the stage, her thoughts on the wicked man who had forced himself upon her, and on the wonderful man who had saved her. Still, she feared that somehow Joseph Bouquet would find her, harm her. She also wondered what Erik had in store as punishment for him, Carlotta, and the managers. How did life get this complicated?

* * *

Halfway through the show, her beloved's voice echoed throughout the Opera Populaire.

"Did I not instruct that Box Five was to be kept empty?" This surprised Christine, for she had forgotten that he had demanded that she star, and that he have good seating. She had been absently playing the role she was assigned, her thoughts a thousand worlds away, and although Erik's tone was meant to instill fear, which it did, in many others, it comforted her. Meg was frightened though, thinking he was really a ghost.

"He's here, The Phantom of the Opera!"

"It's him..." Christine said unknowingly out loud.

"Your part is silent, little toad!" Christine looked at her in disbelief. Did this really mean that much to her? Christine continued playing the silent role absently, when a terrible sound was heard from Carlotta's soprano voice. _CROAK_. She sang a little more and again, _CROAK_. She ran off stage and the curtain dropped. Christine went to a secluded backstage area to gather her thoughts. This day was just too insane. How was this all happening so suddenly? '_I don't know what I would do without_-' A hand firmly grabbed Christine's shoulder. Due to her thoughts, she automatically assumed that is was Erik, so she turned around.

The disgusting hot breath of Joseph Bouquet was felt on her face, and she smelt the scent of freshly consumed liquor, as well as the rotten old seeping through his skin, mixed with sweat and dirt. He pressed his body against hers and she cried out. Suddenly, he turned and began to run with all his might, followed by Erik, who had something in his hand, but he was going to fast for Christine to see.

Stunned by what had just happened, she was pulled onto the stage without warning to a clapping audience. Apparently, she was going to be playing the Countess. Madame Giry pulled Christine into the changing room to get dressed for the part.

* * *

Erik's blood boiled as he caught sight of the despicable man pressing his intoxicated body against Christine for the second, and surely the last time, and his heart fell as he heard Christine cry out in pain and sadness. He began to race toward Bouquet and the dirty man ran off, and he chased him. He ran unwisely up a ladder, above the stage, where a ballet was now in progress. He chased him around on a series of planks, and when Erik finally caught him on the same one, he shook it until Joseph fell, but not down. Erik pinned him down, and slipped the noose around his neck.

* * *

Christine burst out of the changing room, now constricted in a beautiful pink corset dress, when she heard terrified screams. What she saw shocked her. Joseph Bouquet hanging from a noose, and Erik standing above, holding the end of the rope. Her jaw hung open. She wasn't sure what to think. She knew that he deserved it, but could Erik really do that? His body dropped and the rope fell atop him, and Erik took off, and Christine didn't know where. She turned around, frantically searching for him, but the chaos around her didn't help any. She was on the verge of tears when she felt a hand slip over her mouth from behind.

"Christine, it's alright, it's me" He released his hand from her mouth, and she turned around surprised.

"Raoul!"

**

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A/N: Wait, you aren't Erik! Anywho, sorry I had to do that. I felt bad. I wanted Erik to not be the bad guy, but still kill Bouquet, because he is a jerk. It seemed in character too so...yeah. Things get better, but they get worse too. Sorry. EC always though!**


	10. Rooftop Romance & Dreams of Love

**A/N: I love reviews. :D Reviews make me update three times in one day! This is the end of what I have typed up though, so I will try to catch up with ... myself. :)**

**phantomphan1911: I was kind of following the movie, not wanting to confuse myself, but at this point, I have a lot of freedom because of the three month gap in between 'All I Ask' & 'Masquerade.' I'm so happy you like it!**

**ReganX: I know there is no 'o' in Buquet, but for whatever reason, I cannot stand having those little red lines under the misspelled words in Word! I know I'm a nerd, hehe. I'm also glad that, that chapter didn't harm the character of Erik, which I was worried about. There also are worse problems coming up than that yucky man though.**

**Ethalas Tuath'an: I meant by that, there are trials that are to arise that are bad, but as explained in this chapter, Christine has been instructed to never give up. I'm glad you like it, I always thought that there was something weird about Joseph, that the movie didn't show. I talk about it like it's real, haha. I'm glad you like the story though!**

**Yay for reviews, and yay for Chapter 10!**

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Chapter 10: Rooftop Romance & Dreams of Love

"_Christine, it's alright, it's me" He released his hand from her mouth, and she turned around surprised._

"_Raoul!"_

"Come with me, I must bring you to safety." He pulled her gently, but she resisted, much to his surprise. She knew that now it was safer than ever. He pulled her again, and she resisted again. "Christine!"

"I'm fine, Raoul. I'll be fine." He stared at her in disbelief.

"Christine, there is a murderer. He's here."

"The man I love, he is here too. He will save me, honestly." He looked at her uncertainly. "I promise, Raoul." He wasn't allowed to answer because a petite blonde rushed up behind them and grabbed onto Christine's shoulder.

"Oh, I'm so frightened, Christine! What's going on?" Christine seemed to be the only one without fear in her eyes, but she couldn't tell anyone the truth, as much as she wanted to. Raoul took Meg's hand gently.

"Come with me." And without a word, she followed. Christine continued searching for Erik frantically, but so was everyone else - well, they were searching for the OG, who was blamed for all misfortune.

"The Phantom of the Opera! He did this!" One of the ballet girls shouted. Christine turned around and gasped. All she saw was a caped figure zooming toward her. In a sudden whirlwind, she was above the stage, in Erik's arms. He had swooped down holding a rope, and grabbed her. She threw her arms around his neck and he wrapped his arm around her back momentarily, but knew that they needed to get out of there.

"We must go, Christine," he said quietly, as Christine followed him, silently. He thought for a moment where no one would be, and no one would look, before gently taking her hand and leading her to the rooftop.

"Erik, I'm frightened. They will be looking for you. I don't know what I would do if they got you." They stepped out onto the rooftop, and Christine was fighting breaking into a fit of hysterics. "I don't know what is happening. Everything has gotten so confusing. Joseph Bouquet ... it was awful, but then he, and now, and when I'm with you, everything is so ... " Erik pulled her into his arms, and her tears vanished. He pulled away slightly, to look into her eyes. "Perfect," she finished in a whisper. He gently placed his hand under her chin and brought her lips to his. They brushed lightly, but Christine pulled away. She saw the look of hurt and confusion on his face, but it needed to be done. She gently traced the edge of his mask with her fingertips before pulling it away from his face, and he flinched, unaccustomed to the bare vulnerability he had without his barrier of protection from those who might harm him. She ran her fingers lightly on the disfigured side of his face. "Perfect," she repeated. Erik again drew his mouth close, and pressed his lips to hers. Christine wrapped her arms around his neck. True, she wanted to be closer to him, but she felt if she didn't, that she might collapse from the shear breathtaking enchantment of his kiss. She wondered how one person could make her feel such a way. Erik reluctantly pulled away, not wanting to part from her, but needing to release the words, the lyrics, bursting from his heart.

"_Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime,_

_We will lead each other from solitude,_

_Say you need me with you here, beside you,_

_Anywhere you go, let me go too,_

_Christine, that's all I ask of you."_

She turned around and he wrapped his arms around her from behind, stroking her hair, as she responded.

"_Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime,_

_Say the word and I will follow you,"_

They continued singing together, their words seemingly flowing through each other hearts.

"_Share each day with me, each night, each morning,"_

"_Say you love me," _

"_You know I do,"_

Erik responded without hesitation, and they finished together.

"_Love me, that's all I ask of you."_

The two again joined in another breathtaking kiss. Christine pulled away slightly, looking into his eyes.

"Promise you'll never leave me." Erik pulled her in closer.

"I promise." he whispered against her lips, and she smiled. They again interlocked their mouths in a deep and passionate kiss. Erik couldn't resist: he picked her up, and spun her around, and they both grinned, and sang.

"_Anywhere you go, let me go, too!_

_Love me, that's all I ask of you."_

Their lips met again, each time, feeling like the very first.

"I must go, Erik," Christine said, realizing that she has a part in Il Muto, and the audience still may be there. "Come with me?" He smiled before kissing her briefly and putting his mask on, and hand in hand descending the stairs into the opera house.

* * *

Christine took a sip of hot tea and tightened Erik's cloak around her body. His lair was cold, but she wasn't sure that was what her goose-bumps were from, and besides, being away from him was far colder. His cloak, though, was sumptuous and thick, the tea was delicious, and the company was extraordinary.

"You did very well tonight, Christine." Erik broke the silence, drawing the young girls bright brown eyes up to meet his.

"I cannot believe that the managers insisted that the show continue."

"Whatever turns profit," Erik said sarcastically, and fell silent. After a few moments, again he spoke. "Christine, do you think what I did to that man was wrong?" Christine let out a sigh, obviously thinking over her answer, before shaking her head slowly and carefully. She was calmer now, but the occurrences of the day still shook her.

"I think ... it needed to be done. If it wasn't me, it would have been someone else. I'm sorry that you had to be the one to do it but ... " A shadow fell over her face, a darkness that even Erik wasn't used to seeing, and it concerned him. "Men like that need to be stopped and..." her voice drifted off, and her eyes filled with tears. She was obviously still consumed with the emotions of the days unlikely events. Erik was also struggling.

"He died once. To see him do that to you, to see the pain on your face, it ... it killed me a thousand times over." Christine set her tea down and walked over to where Erik sat, brought herself down beside him, and cuddled up against his chest.

"It's over now," she murmured.

"Christine," he whispered after a few moments of gently stroking her soft curls. "I love you ... more than anything. I ... " he stopped when he realized that she hadn't heard him - she was already asleep. It didn't matter though, he was sure that she knew.

* * *

_Christine walked through mist. That was all she saw: mist. Somehow though, she felt strangely comforted, despite her strange surroundings. She walked along, although she felt no ground beneath her feet, until she saw something in the distance. At first, it was just a speck, but soon, the full figure of a man was in view. Not just a man: her father._

"_Father ... " she whispered, and he disappeared, just to reappear a few seconds later, right in front of her._

"_Christine," she heard his voice whisper, but his mouth did not move. He took both of her hands in his. He didn't look the same as the last time she saw him, when he lay dying. It was him, sure enough, but different. His black hair was no longer streaked with grey, and the grows feet and bags that had surrounded his eyes no longer existed. His eyes themselves though, piercing and green, so intense, yet so full of love - they always remained the same. _

"_Christine," he spoke again, this time his lips moving. He leaned forward and pressed his warm lips to her forehead. That was the other thing that had changed: he felt so warm now, and the last time she had seen him, his touch was so cold, and it had frightened her. Christine sighed at the touch of her father and closed her eyes. It had been so long since she had felt him kiss her, she could hardly recall. Once he pulled away, he looked into her eyes._

"_Do you love him, Christine? Do you love Erik?" She was surprised by his question, but answered without a hint of doubt in her eyes._

"_I do, Father, yes. Should I not?" He smiled, his eyes sparkling with the scintillant brilliance that they always had._

"_True love is never wrong, _mon enfant_, never forget that. '_Love suffers long and is kind; love does not envy; love believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails.'_ No matter what happens, Christine, never give up on love." At that moment, he was gone. Her hands that were grasping so tightly to her father's now collapsed into fists, with nothing else to hold to. Contained, one in each fist, were two rings._

* * *

Christine opened her eyes to see Erik's face, asleep beside her. She placed a small kiss on his lips and he sighed in his sleep. She sat up, and looked in his hands, shocked. In her left hand, was a white gold ring for a man, in her right, one for a woman. Inscribed on both of them, were three simple words from scripture: 'Love never fails.'

* * *

Christine grasped the rings tightly in her hands as Erik led her back to her room. She couldn't try to explain it to him, not yet. She stepped into the boat and held to Erik. He spoke as he began poling across the lake.

"I've been working on something, Christine." The young girl looked up at him with bright, inquisitive eyes.

"What is it?"

"An opera. Don Juan Triumphant. I was wondering, well hoping, you would preform it with me ... "

"Oh, yes!" she exclaimed, cutting in. He looked unsure.

"Don't answer so quickly, Christine. It's unlike anything I'm sure you're used to, or anyone, for that matter. Full of passion and ... " his eyes looked far off, but he suddenly snapped back to reality. "Well, I want you to hear it first." She smiled.

"I am quite sure I will love it, as long as you wrote it. If you insist, though."

* * *

Once in her dressing room, when she was sure she was out of Erik's sight, she opened her hand. The two white gold rings glimmered with startling grandeur in her hand as she traced the imprint of them in her palm with her fingertips. She sighed, not sure what to make of it all. She also didn't know what to do with the rings, wanting to keep them close to her, and not wanting to lose them. She looked around her room, and her eyes caught on a vase containing four or five blood red roses, each with a black ribbon around them, from a different occasion. She walked over to them and carefully untied one of the black ribbons. She threaded both rings on, and secured them with a knot. She silently sealed it with a kiss before tying the ribbon around her neck, forming a sort of necklace long enough to tuck behind the front of her dress. 'Love never fails.' The words echoes through her mind, and pulsed at her heart, but she had yet to find how hard it was to never give up on love.**

* * *

A/N: Yes, much gushiness, I know, but I try to put sweetness when I have sadness too, because I am such a sap. I hope you enjoyed!**


	11. Don't Give Up

**A/N: Oh my gosh, I'm SOSOSO sorry that this took so long. I haven't given up on the story, as the title of this chapter suggests. :) Add together house sitting(no computer), exams, basic business with this chapter which turned out to be so hard to write...gosh. I feel bad, I'm sorry. Well anywho, I really hope I can get back to my usual pace. It will be better once this is solved, I like romantic phluffinesssss. Here it is!**

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Chapter 11: Don't Give Up 

Erik did not visit Christine the next day, or the next, or the next. Every day that he didn't show, her worry grew, but what could she do? She had been led by him each time down to his underground lair, and she knew the path to be quite confusing. After more than a week, Christine decided that she had no choice - if he was hurt, if he was in danger, whatever happened, Christine knew it just was not like him to not show. She had no more dreams of her father, but each night that she hadn't seen Erik, he was in her dreams. He was either in pain, or didn't love her any more, or had disappeared, but whatever the dream, she awoke in tears. Christine finally built the courage up. She walked up to her mirror, took a deep breath, and slid it open.

The hallway wasn't the same. Without Erik guiding her, it was dark and wet and cold. She stepped back into her room and grasped a lit candle firmly in her hand, before reentering the long hallway. She made it to the lake from memory, although still having to backtrack a few times. She then realized that the boat would be with Erik. Christine shed the top layer of her dress, and taking a deep breath, stepped into the freezing water. To her relief, it barely reached her thighs, but still, it was hard to maneuver in her heavy dress. When she finally approached land, she looked around, not seeing Erik. Her eyes finally fell upon the still figure lying in the exquisite swan bed. Her heart seemed to drop to her stomach. Racing to the bed and dropping to her knees at it's side, she flung herself upon his chest, and was relieved beyond words to hear his heart beat. She carefully tied a ribbon as a necklace around his neck, and grasping his hands, began to beg God to save her dearest love.

* * *

Erik's eyes fluttered open, to see his beautiful angel knelt over him, grasping his hands in hers, apparently praying in an inaudible whisper, and tears were streaming down her face. 

"_Mon Amour_," he whispered, just before coughing, which shot pain through his chest.

"Oh my angel!" Christine cried out, collapsing onto his chest, tears still streaming down his face. "You are ill, Erik," she stated.

"Yes, I ... " he thought about the sharp pain within his chest, and his difficulty breathing, and burning fever, but didn't mention these things to the obviously worried Christine. In all honesty to himself, Erik was quite worried as well. He hadn't been able to walk for more than a few minutes for days, and then he was completely bed-bound. "I know ... " A glimpse of light reflecting from his chest caught his eye, and he untangled one of his hands from Christine's and grasped the two rings threaded on a make-shift necklace tied around his neck. "What is this?"

"They ... I ... Somehow - Father - In a dream." Christine stumbled about her words, trying to explain the unexplainable, while on the verge of hysterics. "Inside, a verse from scripture. '_Love Never Fails_.' Father told me, he said to never give up, if I love you. I put them on you when I thought, think you might ... " She gave up on the sentence that she was trying to piece together through her tears, and began another. "Do you love me Erik?"

"More than anything," he whispered, as he felt his eyelids began to droop, his consciousness beginning to slip away from him.

"Then you mustn't give up. You have you be strong, Erik, for me."

"I won't give up," he replied, before slipping into unconsciousness. Christine gingerly placed a kiss on his forehead, before standing. She knew that she needed to get him help, but she didn't know what to do. She decided to wait until he woke up again to try to give him some food and water, but wasn't sure how long that would be. She kissed his forehead and gently laid down beside him, holding him tightly.

* * *

Erik felt trembling fingers running through his hair before he opened his eyes. 

"Oh, Erik. Wake up, dear, wake up ... " He heard a pleading whisper beside him. He opened his eyes to find Christine's tear-stained face break into a smile. "_Ange de Musique_," She quickly kissed his forehead and sprang up, surprising him. '_What is she doing?_' he wondered, but his thoughts were silenced as she walked back over to the bed, a glass of water and a loaf of bread in her hands.

"When is the last time you ate or drank anything, my sweet?" Christine asked him, concerned. He tried to think, and in doing so, his stomach grumbled.

"Here," she whispered, smiling, and handed him the bread and water. Once he started eating, she rose again, and returned with a damp cloth which she placed on his forehead. Erik broke into a coughing fit and Christine's eyes filled with worry.

"I think you should see a doctor Erik." His eyes grew wide at the idea. He scoffed.

"So are we supposed to bring him down here, Christine. That would go well." She bit her lip.

"Well, I don't know, dear. I hadn't thought it through but, you are so ill. You have a fever, and I'm worried about you." The tears welling up in his beloved's eyes caused the anger to diminish as quickly as it had appeared.

"I know that, Christine," he said, more gently.

"Erik..." Her voice was pleading, but she couldn't think of anything else to say.

"I'll wait it out, Christine. I just need to rest, and stay nourished." She sighed, realizing how stubborn he could be.

"I'll stay with you. That is, if you want me to." Erik took her hand in his and drew it to his soft lips, placing a gentle kiss on her knuckles. This was the man she knew.

"Nothing would make me happier, my love."

* * *

Christine awoke to Erik in a coughing fit beside her. She sat up abruptly, worried by the outburst. 

"Erik?" He coughed more, but tried to smile and waved his hand, gesturing her to not worry, but it was no use. Christine could do nothing but watch him, concerned, until he calmed down. "Oh my love," she whispered and he smiled weakly.

"I'm fine, Christine, it's just," he hesitated, but continued, putting a hand on his chest. "It hurts, is all." Christine's face was twisted with worry, and he hated seeing her as such. "I'll be all right, love." He smiled, but she still looked concerned.

"Try to rest," she instructed lovingly, and he willingly obeyed, quite exhausted from all the coughing, even though he had been sleeping all day. He fell asleep to the tickle of her tiny fingers through his hair and he soft voice singing gently, filling the air around them. "_Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime. Let me lead you from your solitude..._"

* * *

**A/N: There! Yay! I'm going to start the next chapter ASAP, swear. I have to work on this drug and alcohol test thingy though, or else I can't take my permit test on my birthday which is...Tuesday. So...maybe delay, but I seriously hope not like this chapter. **

**Awesome reviewer people:**

**_phantomphan1911_:** Thank you, I'm so glad you're intruiged! Sorry to get you interested then leave you hanging though. :P

**_cinafran_:** Oh yes, crows feet, typo. I hate typos like that that spell checkers don't catch. Thank you for your awesome reviews, I love contructive critisism. If you have any thats like, plotline or something like that too, thats awesome, but I won't go back and correct spelling though, the process is too much with honestly. But you are a great reviewer, thank you so much!

**_Mrs.Elektra Murdock_:** Thank you, I'm so glad you like it!

**_Ethalas Tuath'an_:** Yes, this is what the 'never give up' thing meant. I'm glad that you like the ring thing, I was worried if it was too weird. I'll keep writing though, I swear!

**_hearts aflame_:** :giggle: I'm glad you like it. :D

**_ReganX_:** Yes, Christine isn't mad about Bouquet's murder. I'm glad that you enjoyed the dreamscape, I tried not to make it cheesy. Thanks for the review!

**I'll try to update soon again!**


	12. Missing

**A/N: This little chapter was odd, and I feel bad for the shortness, but I wanted to give you something! Hope you like! I'll so try to write more soon!**

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Chapter 12: Missing

Meg was racing through the hallways of the Opera Populaire, panicked. She was looking for her mother. Or the managers. Or someone. She was frightened. She looked around behind her, still running, and turned her head around just in time to see the handsome Viscount de Chany in front of her, but not quickly enough to avoid crashing into him. Again.

"Oh, forgive me, Viscount!" She apologized hurriedly. He looked at her with compassion in his eyes.

"Dear Meg, please address me as Raoul. Is anything the matter?"

"I ... well, I ... " the girl stammered, trying to hold back the inevitable tears of worry which pricked her eyes. He brushed a strand of hair from her face, and she calmed down enough to mutter, "It's Christine." Raoul's face twisted with emotion: worry, fear ... Meg continued, after drawing a few deep breaths. "It's Christine! She is no where to be found. For almost two days." The young girl began to pace, and Raoul just watched and listened, dumbfounded. "The Opera Ghost! The murderer of Joseph Bouquet! He is there, and she is missing. I'm frightened for her, Raoul!" Her tears finally broke free and Raoul pulled her into his arms without thinking, and she willingly surrendered to his improper embrace.

"It will be all right," he whispered after a few moments, once her tears calmed down. He tried to hide the worry that he also felt for his dear friend Christine, in order to comfort Meg. "I will help you find your mother."

* * *

Raoul and Meg found Mother Giry in the ballet practicing room. The room had very light wood floors, white walls and a lot of mirrors, and the entire room was lined with practice balance bars, and Madame stuck right out. The woman in a dark dress had her leg up impressively high on one of the bars and was stretching gracefully. Meg stepped in.

"Dear daughter?" Mother Giry spoke, concerned by Meg's expression, but rose her eyebrows when she saw the patron walk in behind her. "And viscount? May I help you?"

"I'm afraid Miss Daae has gone missing again, Madame." A shadowed expression graced the older woman's face, but disappeared quickly once she spoke.

"Thank you, I'll see to this matter," she said hurriedly as she practically kicked them out the door and closed it behind them.

* * *

A faint smile grazed Raoul's lips as the cute young blonde immediately dropped to her knees once she heard the door lock, and drew her eyes close to the keyhole, peering inside. The girl's innocent expression of curiosity once turned to fear and bewilderment and her jaw dropped. She stood back up to Raoul's level, eyes wide, and his smile disappeared.

* * *

A/N: Ok! Cliffie! ... kinda. I got a new reviewer, score!

**_Arwen1604_**: I'm glad you liked the 'prying Pandora' scene, and the 'will Erik be ok?'ness! I'm so happy that you like my story, your review means so much to me! I hope it continues to please you:D


	13. Mother and Little Giry

**A/N: Sorry this is so short! We shall be getting into the fun stuff soon! Ok, has anyone noticed that Raoul, although sweet, it not the brightest? Like, the next day _after_ Christine told him about the angel of music, and she has gone missing, he realizes "Christine spoke of an angel!" Not to mention that after she told him about the angel, he hears him in her room going "I am your angel of music" and he goes..."who is that in there!" lol.** **Aww, poor Raoul:)**

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Chapter 13: Mother & Little Giry

Erik's eyes fluttered open to find Christine's sleeping form next to him, her head on his chest. He stroked her cheek twice, and she opened her eyes and smiled.

"How are you feeling, dear?" Erik thought about it for a second, and happily realized that he felt much better, and he told her so. She grinned and stood up to get him some food and water, praying to God that he regains his strength.

* * *

Madame Giry locked the door after the two young blondes, and stepped back and sighed. What kind of trouble had Christine gotten herself into with the Phantom now? The woman gracefully tiptoed, as a lifelong ballerina as herself does naturally, over to the practice bar that lined the wall. She ran her long bony fingers over the familiar smooth wood surface before grasping it firmly in both hands, and jerking swiftly upward. The bar lifted, and as Madame Giry pulled hard to the left, the wall slid from it's place to reveal a passageway. The woman in black lit a torch and hastily disappeared behind the wall, closing it behind her.

* * *

Erik devoured the bread and fruit Christine had given him, and drank many glasses of water. 

"You are getting very much rest, and you seem to be regaining strength," Christine stated delighted, and Erik smiled faintly. After a few moments, he spoke.

"Did you go back upstairs while I was asleep?" he asked. Christine bit her lip and looked away.

"Well, I actually ... haven't been up at all, I didn't want to leave you."

"Christine! Monsieur!" A voice intervened.

"What are you doing here?" Erik's tone had changed from the loving one he had used with Christine to one that was dry and cold. Mother Giry didn't seem to notice. Come to think of it, Erik used that tone with everyone _except_ Christine.

"Well monsieur, had you not noticed that our prima donna has been missing for days?" She eyed their position, laying down against each other on his bed. " And ... it seems you have." Christine sat up, embarrassed. Erik remained silent, so Christine spoke.

"Madame, he is ill!"

* * *

Meg nervously took a deep breath before hesitantly knocking on her mothers door. The woman opened it immediately and without a word, ushered the ballerina quickly inside. Meg sighed, and began speaking, rushed and confused. 

"Mother! Christine! Where is she? And where are you? I mean I know you are here, but before you weren't! Before you walked into the wall! I mean through it! I mean the wall was gone, you moved it and walked through! But then I tried and nothing happened, it was normal! You were gone, and then you came back through the door of the ballet room as if you had never left! And -" Meg was cut off by her mother who clapped a hand over her mouth.

"Goodness, child! I thought I taught you better than to let your imagination take you away as such! Really, girl, quit your incessant daydreaming! And Christine, Christine is well, she will not be attending ballet for a time though." Meg opened her mouth, bewildered, to respond, but words failed her so she just left.

* * *

**A/N: ****Reviewers own.**

**mrsgerrybutler13: Raoul and Meg have a little thing, but Christine and Erik are the focus. My theory is Raoul looks like a girl and he is kind of ditsy but he is kind and really does love Christine. So he gets Meg, because their hair is done by the same person. lol. btw, why is my name on your screen name? I am Mrs. Gerry Butler. hehe. :D**

**Arwen1604: This chapter is short too, sorry! I'm glad that the Raoul/Meg thing is doing well. :)**

**KiyaII: I'm glad you like it! I love E/C! And I'm so glad you think I keep them in character, I'm constantly worried about that!**

**WildPixieChild: Thank you so much, I'm happy you like it!**

**Ethalas Tu'athan: Hehe, thats what she saw! Also, you will know soon how Erik is! Next chapter!**

**erik'sangel527: haha, geez Lauren! You so spazzy:D You actually are the only one who guessed what she saw! Go you! I'm glad you like it also, it means alot because your story is so awesome:D**

**qwerty313: Thank you! I'm so glad you like it!**


	14. Decided

**A/N: So sorry that this took so long! I went on vacation, and wrote so much, and never got around to typing it up. I'll work on it, I love where I've gotten!**

Chapter 14: Decided

Christine gazed into her mirror and combed the tangles from her long curls, her mind a thousand miles away. She was startled when her reflection slid away to be replaced by the figure of a man: Erik. She gasped, and then laughed. Erik smiled at this, but neither said anything. Christine just drew nearer to him and stood on her toes, placing her hands on his chest for balance. She lifted herself high enough to place a small kiss on his forehead, half of her lips on his mask, the other half on his bare skin. She placed another between his eyebrows, and then on the tip of his nose. She then brought her lips in front of his, and paused teasingly. He let out a small laugh and closed the distance between them by claiming her lips with his - the enchanting kisses that they shared always manage to take their breath away. Once they parted, Christine smiled, biting her lip, as she backed up, allowing him in her room.

"How are you feeling, dear?" Erik let out an annoyed sigh, but there was a hint of a smirk upon his lips.

"Christine, I've been well for nearly two weeks."

"You are sure, you don't feel weak? If so, you do need to rest until you are fully-" Erik interrupted her by occupying her lips with a small kiss.

"I feel fine, Christine. Superb." Christine smiled, and Erik continued on to say what he meant to in the beginning. "I heard the managers speaking to each other. Monsieur Andre is planning a ball for New Years day next month. A masquerade. It suits me, does it not?" Christine let out a small laugh and smiled thoughtfully. The holiday season was rapidly approaching and she was very much in the spirit of it all.

"Oh, that sounds wonderful!" Erik took her hand.

"Would you accompany me, dear?"

"Really? You would go? Oh, yes, Angel!" Erik slipped a hand around her waist, pulling her close to him, just as Madame Giry's voice was heard resounding through the hallways outside.

"Girls! Rehearsals! Now!" Christine winced.

"I forgot. I should go. It's the last gala of the year." Erik just smiled and placed a chaste kiss upon her lips, before turning to leave. Christine watched as he strode toward the mirror and as he had his back to her, she caught a glimpse of a black knot - a ribbon, forming a necklace around his neck. Her jaw dropped and a knock came at her door just as Erik turned around, facing her, to close to mirror. She whipped her head around and looked at the door momentarily, before whipping it back around, looking back at Erik. He just winked at her, not noticing her shocked expression, and closed the mirror. Another knock. Christine opened the door, and without a word, Meg grabbed Christine around the wrist and pulled her toward the rehearsal area by the stage.

During rehearsals, though, Christine's mind was still back in her dressing room, with Erik, wondering about the makeshift necklace around his neck. She assumed, after the surreal ordeal had passed by, and she hadn't again seen the rings, that she had dreamt them up. She had simply let her imagination carry her away, mixing her love for Erik, her memories of her father, and her desire to wed, into one enchanting dream. Could it have actually happened? Did she really have her father's blessing in her relationship with Erik?

"Christine!" Meg whispered, giving her a little push.

"Leetle fool missed 'er cue!" Carlotta screeched. The last thing Christine wanted to do was cause a tantrum in Carlotta in the last rehearsal for the gala that night.

"I apologize," Christine whispered, half-heartedly. The diva just scoffed and rolled her eyes, continuing with rehearsals. It seemed everyone was in the holiday spirit.

* * *

Erik sat in his underground home and traced the two circles that hung from a ribbon around his neck. He had been confused by the rings, at first. 'If Christine's father had told her in a dream, how did she get the rings?' he had wondered. What Christine didn't know was that Gustav Daae had visited Erik recently in a dream, as well. He had told him to love Christine with everything he had within him, to follow his heart, and to never give up, come what may. He had awoken to find the first tears in his eyes in his eyes since before he met Christine.

Now, he was frightened, because he knew what he had to do. It wasn't that he didn't want to propose to

Christine, but he was afraid. To have her as his wife was the only thing he ever wanted in life. What if she said no? If she didn't, what if he wasn't able to give her the life she deserves. Does she want to be wed to a hideous beast her entire life? Other than that, would he be able to start a real life with her, above ground in a real house? He had more than enough money to, and more than enough skill to design her the house of her dreams, and also to live quite comfortably, but he was still frightened. He pondered living in a house. The darkness of his underground lair had been his sanctuary since he was a child. He got everything he wanted by ordering it from people, instigating fear within them to get his way. Could he leave that behind and change his ways? It would take adjustment, but a life in a large beautiful house, sharing a life with Christine in the sunshine, building a family - as opposed to the darkness of his underground solitude - Well, there was just no comparison.

He knew what he had to do.

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A/N: claps for reviewers**

**erik'sangel527: haha, I love your reviews! Because! They! Are! So! Excited! With lots of exclaimation points! Wooo! Hehe, I'm so glad you like it!**

**mrsgerrybutler: haha yes, every girl's dream name: Mrs. Gerry Butler. Mine anyways! And yours too, apparently! hehe. Well, I'm glad you like it! And yeah, Madame Giry seemed like the protective type. Like in the beginning of the film, with the managers. :)**

**Ethalas Tuath'an: Well Meg doesn't really believe the daydreaming nonsense, but like, she is always kind of left confused and wondering. Poor Meg. And may I ask what your username means:)**


	15. Christmas Morning

**A/N: I'm so sorry this is taking so long! I'm such a lzy bum, I have had this written forever, I just slack off with the typing it up part! Ok well, here it is!**

**Chapter 15: Christmas Morning**

Erik smiled as he snuck into Christine's room, closing the door behind him. He eyes Christine's innocent figure, asleep on her bed, and wondered how she could exude such elegance and beauty and innocence and wonder, when all she was doing was sleeping. He quietly sat on the edge of her bed, and pushed a curl from her forehead, as gently as he could manage. Christine sighed in her sleep, her lips forming a smile, and Erik couldn't help but let out a small chuckle. At this, she awakened, her slight smile breaking into a grin at the sight of his face.

"Merry Christmas," he whispered from above her. She smiled and lifted her head, placing a small kiss on his mouth.

"Merry Christmas, _mon ange_" Erik took the rose that was in his hand and brought it up to where she could see. Her eyes lit up, and he gently tapped the end of her nose with it's soft petals.

"You must dress, Christine. I have somewhere to bring you." Christine nodded excitedly.

"Five minutes?" Erik just winked at her, and exited through her door.

* * *

Christine tied a pink ribbon in her half up hair just as she heard a knock at her door. She smiled.

"Come in." Erik entered with a dozen more red roses in his hands.

"Oh, Angel!" she exclaimed. "You didn't have to do that!"

"Of course I did. How could I let such surpassing beauty go unacknowledged on Christmas day?" Christine couldn't stop grinning. They kissed momentarily before they walked out of the door. Erik felt bad for having to avoid people and sneak out, but what would anyone do if they saw Christine leaving with the infamous OG? Hopefully, once they were away from the opera house, no one would wonder about them. They reached the front door without any problems, and Erik reached for the handle, but hesitated.

"Are you all right?" Christine asked, putting a loving hand on his arm.

"Yes," he replied, placing his hand against the cold door knob. "Yes." He could do this. For Christine. He kissed her gently on the mouth, and turned the handle. The pair walked outside into the crisp air of winter, not noticing little Meg, who had been standing on the front stairs watching, jaw dropped.

* * *

Erik and Christine walked hand in hand throughout Paris, which was glistening so brilliantly in the bright Christmas snow that Christine could only look around with the awe-filled eyes of a child. To Erik, it was all very strange and wonderful, being out in the daylight, the joy of the season all around him, so far from the safety and sorrow of his underground sanctuary. They approached a small café, and Erik nervously ordered them each a cup of hot chocolate. He was pleased to find that the man who worked there happily obliged, and surprised that it was that easy to speak with strangers. They sat down and let the sweet liquid slip down their throats and warm their bodies.

Once they were finished, they continued walking along the streets. There weren't as many people out as usual, it being Christmas day, but there were a few that they passed, and they appeared to be filled with the same joy as Erik and Christine were. They passed a father holding his small daughter as they looked in the windows of different toy stores, the small girls curls bouncing as she chattered happily with her father. They passed an elderly couple, hand in hand, and obviously more in love than ever.

They approached a lake that was frozen over by the snow filled air. The sun shined a stream of light on the glassy lake, and a white rabbit hopped across, to be followed by several newborn rabbits. Erik took a deep breath: it was now or never.

"Christine," he spoke, not meaning for his voice to quiver. "Christine," he repeated, hoping he sounded as strong as he didn't feel. He made sure that no one was around before continuing. He reached up and took his mask off.

"I love you ... with all that I am." Christine's eyes deepened.

"I love you too, Angel." He swallowed hard, his throat dry. He began to sing to her.

"_Every time I look at you, the world just melts away,_

_All my troubles, all my fears, dissolve in your affections,_

_You've seen me at my weakest, yet you take me as I am,_

_And when I fall, you offer me a softer place to land._

_You stay the course, you hold the line, you keep it all together,_

_You're the one true thing I know I can believe in,_

_You're all the things that I desire, you save me, you complete me._

_You're the one true thing I know I can believe in."_

He lowered himself to one knee, taking a velvet box from his pocket. "Would you do me the honor of your hand in marriage?" Christine's jaw dropped and she traced the white gold diamond ring with her fingertips.

"This is the ... " she whispered, unable to finish a sentence. "My father ... " Erik simply nodded, the anxiety growing within his chest. Why should she want to marry a beast like him anyway? His thoughts were interrupted buy Christine's response.

"Oh yes, Erik, yes!" Erik's deep green-blue eyes brightened as he stood. Christine grinned as he slipped the perfectly fitting ring onto her ring finger. Her expression deepened and she looked into his eyes.

"I love you so much, Angel." Their faces drew close and their lips brushed lightly.

"Promise that you'll never go away," Erik whispered softly against her mouth.

"I promise," she replied, just before he claimed her mouth with his in a proper kiss. They then returned joyfully back to the Opera Populaire, hand in hand.

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A/N: LOVEloveLoVe reviews!**

**mrsgerrybutler13: Of course they get together! Aww, I'm nice to Raoul, I think he's a good guy! Just has some Hanson hair issues...**

**phantomfan1911: Aww, thank you so much, I'm glad you liked it!**

**erik'sangel527: Hey miss too lazy to log in! Giddy retards are amazing, and so are exclaimation points! I love your story! Aww, haha, I know who Dumbledore is, he has a beard! But Harry Potter... bleh! haha. 3**

**twinkle22: There was your proposal! hehe!**


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